He Gets It
by Kawaii Kisu
Summary: Because people didn't always get it. But we locked hands and we held on tight and we kissed without stopping for air, without opening our eyes, because we were both feeling it and thinking the same thing: He gets it.
1. Suddenly I See

**Riku; You Can See She's a Beautiful Girl**

What makes a story? Is it the plot? The characters? Maybe the main focus is on the themes, the symbols. Who knows? Does it always have to have a proper beginning, or even an ending? I think, not really. The way I see it, any story is just a series of snapshots. It is picture after picture of different moments in life—maybe not yours, maybe not a person you know, but _someone's_ life. Key moments that make you who you are or that hold and give meaning to your life. I mean, what is a life without meaning? How can that life become a story?

I like a good story. I like being able to take something simple or fantastic, small or large, and weave it into a single thread of dangling moments. Because we each define our life and those moments, just us and no one else. We write our own stories.

Me, I write stories with a camera lens. A Kodak Easyshare C190, a rather nice digital camera that cost a pretty penny. The great thing about it was that I got to pick and choose the moments I wanted to keep, the pictures I wanted to string together. There's something empowering about that. When I think about it, I see the world with greater clarity through the lens. You know? Probably not, but it makes sense to me. Taking random photos, forming stories from those photos—that makes sense to me. The one thing that doesn't is the fact that I don't take my own pictures, my own moments, and try to tell my own story about my own life.

I couldn't give you a reason why; I just don't like it. My place is behind the camera, not in front of it. My job is to interpret other people's lives, not my own. My role is to tell stories other than my own. Never in my life have I been concerned with doing otherwise—

Until now.

I guess.

It's nothing amazing, for the record. Nothing surprisingly deep or life changing. It's not about the plot. It's not about the characters, really, just how things play out around them. Us. Me. It's just a series of snapshots, a brief look. Things just happen, and for once I don't mind sharing these things. Even if you don't find it all that meaningful.

It still holds meaning for me.

* * *

><p>The buzz of the fridge seemed a lot louder than normal tonight. It had always bugged the hell out of me, but it was much worse tonight. Tried ignoring it, but that was a hard feat considering my room was directly next to the kitchen. Paper thin walls. Fun. It was the noise that drove me out of bed and into the hallway—or what counted as a hallway. Our apartment was small…<p>

I don't know what I planned on doing now that I was up, but I hadn't expected to find Mom half naked, sprawled out on the living room couch. There was such a stark contrast between the black of her bra and underwear and the white of her skin, I could have sworn she was a ghost. A thin blanket had fallen off her childish figure. Her eyes were a little blurred, red, and her makeup was running down her cheeks.

She had an old picture gripped loosely in one hand. Yeah, _that_ one.

I heaved a sigh, walked over towards the couch. Took the photo away and set it aside on the coffee table face-side down. Didn't want to look at it, at the likeness of the man I once considered my father from a decade ago, didn't want to see his smiling face from when he was still around. Ass…

Mom looked up at me blankly. "Riku." Slurred. Sleepy. She'd been drinking again.

My voice was hushed, equally tired. "I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so."

The woman chuckled, held out a hand while I in turn sank down beside the couch and locked fingers with her.

"He looked like your father did."

"Uh-huh."

"He was nice. Always. And he let me down easy."

"Is that why you broke down crying and went drinking?"

"You're cold."

"And you need to suck it up." I said it, meant it, with all the love and tenderness I could muster. But I was tired of this shit. She went through men like candy. The wrong kind of men that wanted her for the wrong reasons. Every time she would pretend that it was okay, that there was a love there similar to what she had with the man she called my father. Every time she would glorify them and idealize them in her mind. Then when the men got tired of her and threw her away, I was supposed to feel sorry for her when she knew better in the first place?

No. That's not how it worked. Ten years of this… That was more than enough.

So I sat a little longer with her in silence before getting up and tugging on her twiggy arms. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"What if I just died here?"

"I'd die with you. But not without getting some sleep first."

"You're the only one I can count on anymore, Riku. The only man in my life I can still count on."

_But I'm still a boy_, I wanted to say. Even if I didn't like admitting it. _Still a boy, still sixteen, still growing up._

Sometimes she forgot that. Sometimes she counted on me too much. Why couldn't she see that?

* * *

><p>Our apartment complex was small. Maybe twenty-five to thirty people hidden away from the world, just barely getting by. There was the A Building then the B Building directly across from each other, separated only by a pitiful span of sidewalk and parking lot where a variety of cars huddled together. The streets, the lot, the walls—all of it was a dull brownish gray. It wasn't so much worn out and tiring as it was depressing. I'd been raised in this one apartment, comfortable with it and yet sick of it at the same time. Same old people, every day, same faces coming and going. Here, there was no such thing as variety.<p>

That didn't keep me from taking pictures.

I already told you I tell stories through pictures. I take one moment in time and make it my own, isolate it forever. That's another amazing thing about photos. They're forever. Always.

I would snap pictures of the cars lined by each other in the parking lot. I'd snap pictures of the children's park across the street, of the forest behind it. I'd snap pictures of the street leading from my apartment, of the different buildings in the complex. The mail room, the laundry room, the front desk which was really just a large supply closet with a desk inside.

Most of the time, though, you'd find me snapping pictures of people who usually didn't know I was photographing them in the first place. Something about being able to capture someone's true face through a lens when they were unaware gave me a rush.

That was why, every day, you'd find me leaning over the second floor railing of B Building, looking down onto the parking lot with my camera in hand. Like today. I usually came out around seven, maybe seven-thirty if I got up later, snapping away while waiting for the bus. The birds were out, chirping their obnoxious songs. A few other familiar faces were out and about, leaving for work. For the most part, it was quiet. Nothing new, nothing different, nothing—

Oh, wait. Who was that?

Just below I could spot a face I didn't recognize along with another I vaguely remembered. The latter was a realtor. If memory served me correctly…yeah, she used to be a friend of Mom's. She came her often enough for me to considered them—at least at that time—close friends, but she showed up less and less unless she was giving potential new "neighbors" a tour. The stranger with her must have been on one such tour.

Said stranger was blonde, her hair cut short. Like, short, short and slicked back. Save for two large, defiant strands of hair that hung in the air like antennae. Weird. Her makeup looked fresh, light and dark at the same time, and yet it didn't seem like too much like when Mom went out on a night on the town. She had on lacey stockings and a plaid green and black miniskirt, coupled with a black T-shirt that read "Every Inch a Woman." Black thigh boots, a black winter coat even though it wasn't that cold out today, a matching purse dangling from her shoulders…

_Beautiful and dangerous_, I thought. That was the first thing that crossed my mind. Something about her was off…scared me, almost.

The blonde and the realtor came to a stop in front of our building, talking. Something or other about rent and air conditioning. I just watched for a moment before aiming my camera their way, at the yellow haired stranger. Just one picture. Something new, something different. Something—

"Hey there, cutie."

And I stopped myself, because she was looking up now.

I blinked for a moment, lowered my camera before taking in the strange woman's blue-green gaze. Her lips were curved into a half smirk, half greeting smile. She eyed me up and down, hands on her hips. "Is that your way of saying hello, or are you just some sort of stalker?"

I didn't say anything to that, simply remaining still. To be honest, I was a bit unsure what to say.

Thankfully, the realtor—why could I never remember her name?—spared me some embarrassment and shot me a warming smile. "That's Riku, one of the people living here at Rhine Wood. He's a photographer."

The blonde never took her eyes off of me. "So you know him?"

"I'm…acquainted with his mother, yes."

"So you want to take pictures for a living?" This last question was directed at me. I wasn't comfortable with the way her gaze was raking through me. Something with her eyes…

I shrugged some of the discomfort away. "Dunno."

"Well, maybe you could practice taking photos of me. I'm a model, you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"S'right."

"What's a model doing in a dump like this?"

She smiled in an amused way, eyes almost cat-like the way they narrowed. The realtor gave a polite (albeit strained) grin before clearing her throat and touching the blonde's arm. "Oh, he's joking. Rhine Wood's a wonderful place to live for someone just starting out. Here, I'll show you one of the vacant…"

And her voice was trailing and growing quieter because now they were both disappearing underneath the pass by the stairs, out of view. The blonde woman's gaze was still burned into my brain… I glanced at my watch.

Seven fifty-six. Four more minutes until the bus showed up. Sighing, I turned my camera off and headed back to my apartment to get my backpack.

Only later did I realize I hadn't taken a picture of the mysterious blonde woman.

* * *

><p>I've been described as emotionally constipated by my friends before—and I use the term friends rather loosely, now that I think about it. They're more like people I stick to like glue because I don't feel like finding someone else to hang with. Or maybe it's because I don't have anyone else to hang with. Who knows?<p>

Those two tell me that I need to loosen up, maybe find that special someone who can crack me open like a walnut and learn about all the nitty-gritty inside. They tell me I'm not expressive enough, at least not emotionally, that I keep too many things bottled up. It's usually Naminé spouting crap like that, though. She figures she can get me talking about my feelings. Every guy needs to open up and talk about his _feelings_ every once in a while. Or something like that. Kairi's advice? Get laid. Gotta love that girl sometimes.

"Seriously, you need a girlfriend," the red head muttered during lunch that day. I hadn't heard her over the background chatter of students at first, though, so I cupped my hand around my ear and tilted my head her way.

She took her pretty little hands, cupped them around her mouth, and repeated herself. "I SAID YOU NEED A GIRLFRIEND!"

"Damn, girl, you don't gotta scream."

"Or a new boyfriend. What ever happened between you and—"

"Don't say his name."

If it had been anyone else, I'm sure they would have looked hurt; Kairi was used to me snapping at her when it came to him, though. Why was she always bringing him up? Her and Naminé. Drove me insane. I didn't want to talk about him, didn't even want to think about him, that yellow haired little bas—

"Babe, can I borrow three dollars?"

Naminé had showed up then and snapped me out of my thoughts. Her hair was done up in a bun today. It looked cute with her outfit, a thin white blouse with a pink and lavender floral print and a white jean skirt. I've never seen a girl pull of a _white_ jean skirt like Naminé. And, of course, white wedge heels, same as the black pair Kairi wore today. Actually, were they wearing the same blouse? Yeah, they were. Whenever I saw them side by side, they always looked like color coordinated siblings rather than partners. They had this thing with dressing similarly to each other, and the funny thing about it was that it was always unintentional. They could be models, maybe for those teen fashion mags. _Maybe I should take a picture…_

Naminé dumped her purse and books—she always had an ass load of books in her arms—on the round table beside Kairi before leaning down to plant a small peck on the red head's cheek. Kairi returned the kiss before digging around in her own purse. "I thought you usually packed lunch?"

"I do, but I woke up late this morning," Naminé replied. She took the money her girlfriend handed her with a smile. "Thanks! Be right back."

And she was. We had watched her scamper off to the lunch line and back with a paper tray of crinkle fries and what passed as a sandwich in this death trap they called a cafeteria. The entire time I noticed a perkiness about her, in her step, in that dimply grin spread on her face.

"What are you so happy about," I asked the moment the blonde took a seat, snatching one of her fries.

She bounced a bit in her seat, grinning wider. "Yuffie gave me three invites for a party tonight at the Myst, and we have to go."

Kairi's eyes widened. "W…wait, seriously?"

"I know!"

Before they could continue with their fangasm fest, I asked, "What's Myst?"

Instantly the two shot me identical stares as if I had sprouted an extra head. I had two pairs of crystalline eyes boring into my skin, almost making me jump back in my seat.

"Honestly, Riku." Kairi shook her head. "It's a private night club."

"_The_ private night club," her blonde counterpart added, taking a small bite of her sandwich. "The party's for one of Yuffie's friends—"

"I hate that girl," I muttered. Naminé just rolled her eyes.

"You won't even have to be around her; the place is huge! Plus, we won't have to worry about not being old enough to get in. It's sixteen and up tonight." It was here her grin returned. "Yuffie's friend, can't remember her name, she has the whole place rented out for the night and it's invite only."

"And you have to dress up." Kairi eyed me up and down, making a 'tsk' sound before jokingly replying, "You can handle that, can't you?"

"Oh, bite me," I said with a slight smirk. "Maybe I'll just show up naked."

"God—please don't. Wait, how are we getting there?"

"Yuffie said her cousin would give us a ride," Naminé explained. "She works as a bartender there and can usually pull a few strings, so sometimes she gets Yuffie in for free."

Naminé was rummaging around in her purse as she spoke, and soon she was pulling out the alleged invites her head sore of a friend had given her. She handed one to either of us so we could examine them further. They were a little smaller than an average sized index card, completely black on both sides with gold and red letters printed on. _Myst_ in gold, capitals, some sort of funky font that took up most of the front. Underneath that was the address, a number for the club. Simple yet elegant. I liked the way it felt in my hand.

Flipping it over, I eyed the cropped photo of the club itself. Well, the dance floor. It was a wide expanse of black tile, peppered with neon rainbow lights. Off to the side you could make out just a little of the bar, the rounded stools. No people, but that was fine because it was still a breathtaking shot.

If anything, I'd go just for the chance to get a few pictures of this place myself.

"It's not going to be anything huge," Naminé went on. "It's a random just for the heck of it party, I think, at eight. Oh."

She paused, causing Kairi and me and look up questioningly. A weird grimace crossed her face and she bit her bottom lip for a moment. "But you might not want to come, Riku"

I arched a brow at her. "Why?"

"'Cause I heard…certain _persons_ might be there that you probably won't want to see. Maybe. I'm not entirely sure, so…"

Kairi scowled, stealing another fry from the girl's tray. "Though I'm sure there won't be a problem if you swallow your pride and just talk to R—"

"Don't fucking say his name," I snapped, which only caused her scowl to broaden.

"Your own fault."

"_Your own fault_," I mimicked. "I don't need relationship advice from a lesbian."

"Says the bisexual."

"Oookay!" Naminé waved a fry at the both of us, puffing her cheeks out. "Are you coming to the party or not?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You sure?"

"_Yes,_ Christ. I'll see you there." I shot a knowing glance Kairi's way. "And I don't care if he's there or not."

She just rolled her eyes, munching on another fry with her other hand pressed to her cheek. "Uh-huh."

* * *

><p>The music was killing my ears.<p>

It was blaring and beating at my body, but that was alright. I actually liked the feeling. Like music was playing inside of you. There were limbs tangled and bodies pressing and grinding against each other to the beat of Rihanna. What was it called…_Only Girl in the World_. Yeah, I liked that song. It was meant to be danced to, jumped and sung along with.

I'd gotten my own ride here, a taxi, instead of riding with Naminé, Kairi, and that Yuffie girl. (Really. She rubbed me the wrong way.) All I had had to do was mention the word "party" afterschool and my mom had merely said, "Don't stay out too late," and handed me thirty bucks. Sometimes her not giving two shits had its benefits.

But back to the music. The dance floor. I wasn't on it myself, but hanging around by the bar with a few other non-dancers who were chatting with one another. I had my camera out, had the lens aimed this way and that as I snapped away.

Some of these kids I recognized from school. No, I didn't know them personally, but I knew their faces, saw them roam the hallways sometimes, or at basketball games. The rest were older kids, maybe even in college. People I didn't know and didn't care to know. It was a school night, but the way they were going at it on the dance floor it was clear they didn't give a damn. There was a raw _energy_ as they moved, possibly from the music, most likely from sipping one too many drinks. (No, they weren't serving alcohol at the bar tonight, but that didn't stop some from bringing their own.) It was fierce. Contagious.

Neon lights flickered on and off, swimming across the bodies and the floor and walls. Red, green, blue, purple. Mostly gold and orange. And when the lights periodically formed an outline of a star on the dance floor, the people started whooping and hopping up and down on it. Ha! Almost made me want to get my ass up there and make a fool of myself. I had spotted Naminé and Kairi somewhere in the mix, intimately close, hair whipping about and arms flailing in the air as they lost themselves with the others. And I had locked gazes with _him _at one point, only for a brief moment; he had some pretty young thing with him, heading somewhere across the room. But he'd quickly scowled and averted his gaze, and I followed suit.

The song changed again. Usher. Or Ne-Yo, whoever. Another pop song, people adjusting their movements to its rhythm. I stopped taking pictures then, because something caught my eye. Someone.

I mean, she _really _caught my eye.

She almost blended in with the background, save for the lights, because of all the black she was wearing. A long sleeved blouse, lacey, from some silky material. A matching skirt that came down well above her knees but was far from being too short; there were lavender frills on the bottom, just slight. Then she had boots that hugged her legs like I don't know what. The clothes were nice, but it was her face that drew my attention more.

Even from this distance, even with the lights flashing on and off like they did, I could tell her eyes were the same deep blue as Kairi's or Naminé's. Wide. Unfocused, maybe. And her hair was just a chocolate drape that fell around her round face, down to her waist. Something about her face sucked me in, like the model lady from this morning. Only she didn't have the dangerous air about her, had an almost innocent aura. Something about her face.

She was pretty.

She stumbled her way towards the bar but didn't make it very close. Then a red haired stranger, wild hair spiked back, showed up. He was some older guy with gray skinny jeans sagging against his thin hips and T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off— wasn't there a dress code?— who had sauntered over to her and grabbed her wrists. There was a playful look in his green eyes as he tugged her back, away from the crowd, towards the back exit. And the girl was pulling back, saying something I couldn't hear over the noise, looking confused and maybe a little upset. Scared? It was hard to see her face now, with other people dancing in the way. I saw that he didn't let her go, though. Dragged her out the door, had her stumbling about behind him in her heeled boots.

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched them. I waited a moment before strapping my camera to my wrist and following them.

It was chilly out. It always got colder during the night, especially during late autumn. It was a little lighter out here than it was outside, but it still took a minute for my eyes to adjust. The streets, the sidewalk, were empty. Street lamps were hanging above almost sinisterly, staring down at me as I looked this way and that. Where had they…?

"W-wait... Axel, wait."

Ah, in the alley.

That was the girl's voice? She sounded…a little funny. Her voice was breathy, a little slurred. She said something else, but I didn't quite catch it. Then the red haired stranger, this Axel, whispered one simple word in a tone that sent a slight ripple through my body:

"Relax."

I wasn't close enough to see anything, wasn't sure if I _should_ get close enough to see anything. I heard movement around the corner, just feet away, and I waited. Worried. Then the girl's breath hitched and she gave a sharp, "No!"

_Is he about to rape her?_

That was my first thought. That's what got me moving. I had planned on heading into the alley and stopping whatever it was this perverted red head was doing to her, that beautiful girl. I stopped, though—maybe out of cowardice, maybe because I wasn't sure if what I thought was going down was actually going down. I stopped just enough to peer around the corner and froze at what I saw.

The red head was on his knees, had her skirt lifted up. And her knees were spread enough for him to put his mouth on her sweet spot, to get her weak enough to press her back to the brick wall and moan just the slightest bit. And she had her fingers in his hair, her own head tilted back and those soul sucking eyes closed tight as he sent her to heaven and back. And he was just smirking as he sucked, staring up at her with those green eyes, and it wasn't really her I was looking at but him. He was…kind of hot.

Then I saw him bobbing his head back and forth, saw just what it was he had in his mouth, and my jaw dropped.

The she was actually a he.

And I didn't know what to think then because all thoughts left me and all I could do was stare with flustered cheeks as the red head, this Axel, gave this chick— this beautiful _guy,_ a blow job.

_I mean… Holy… Wow._

At that point I figured it didn't matter if it was consensual or not, and if I stayed any longer I ran the risk of being found out and getting caught up in even more awkwardness.

So, still shocked, I quietly slipped away and headed back inside.


	2. Love Stereo

**Sora; Your Smile is a Beautiful Lie  
><strong>

Three years ago, for my thirteenth birthday, my brother bought me my very first bra. That, and a matching pair of panties. They weren't the lacey lingerie kind or anything, but they were nice. I liked the fabric, a soft rosy color with red polka dots. The waist band of the underwear hugged my hips and the bra, a modest 32A, sat snuggly against my chest without me having to stuff it. (I still did, though, for the weight and appearance.) I remember he had said that, since I'd wanted them so badly, he decided to get them out of the way for me. I'm pretty sure he used up most of his allowance, too, but he didn't say. It was really sweet. Maybe… No, definitely one of the best birthdays of my life.

"Don't let Mom know, though," he'd added, which was something he didn't need to tell me twice. We'd gone over it time and time again.

Ma didn't like knowing one of her sons liked to dress up as a girl.

So I just made sure she didn't see. It wasn't hard, considering she worked often late into the night. After school, when she was at work and Rox was at practice and it was just me and the cat alone in our house; I'd pull out my special clothes and wear the bra and panties underneath. I'd try out my outfits and look at myself in the mirror, frown at the hair on my arms and legs, frown at my messy spikes. Sometimes I straightened it out and wore it down. My hair was long enough to come down to the middle of my neck in a short bob. But that wasn't good enough.

I could easily pass as a girl, but it wasn't good enough.

Then, after I'd criticized myself enough, I changed back to my school clothes and started on homework. Read. Messed with the cat. Anything to take my mind off things. By the time the others came home, I would already have the urge to dress up out of my system. They didn't have to see or know…

See, Ma didn't get it, like most people in my life. Dad hadn't even known. Yet I had a feeling that, if he were still alive, he wouldn't approve. Grams didn't know either, but I think she had an inkling that…_something _was off. My brother didn't get it, but he tried to understand. At least Roxas tried to understand. That's why I felt like I could just die happy the day he handed me that Victoria's Secret bag.

He didn't quite get it, but he tried to. That's what counted, right?

For my fourteenth birthday I treated myself with the money he and Ma had given me. That's all I had asked for that year, just money or a Visa gift card. They had both put money together for one card with a hundred dollars I could spend however I wanted. Grams gave me an additional fifty, 'cause she's cool like that. And, of course, I spent all of it on my habit.

The first thing I bought was a pair of silicon breast forms for the bra. I'd ordered them online, had to steal the package from the mail and smuggle it into my room before Ma managed to see. I also splurged on makeup, similar to Ma's. The stuff she wears is nice, high end. Especially her shadows. God, that woman knows her eye shadow.

The most important thing, though, I had set aside thirty dollars for. The wig. It's a nice wig. Matches the brown of my hair, too. I made sure it was long enough for me to sit on—well, almost; it had looked longer online, but it was still good. It's easy to brush and comb through, like a silky chocolate curtain. The wig, I wore whenever I went out. Not often did I go out while dressed up, not without feeling paranoid, anyway. But, after I'd gotten it, I always wore the wig when I did muster up the courage to dress in public.

Now, there's this trunk I have for all of these things. Mostly my clothes. Not my every day so called "normal" clothes, my guy clothes. My real clothes. The ones I liked to wear. I had them all folded neatly and stacked away in that trunk underneath my bed. There wasn't a whole bunch. Four dresses, three blouses, about a dozen T-shirts (obviously meant for girls), three skinny jeans. Then I had six skirts and two pairs of heels, one black and one white, and a pair of heeled boots. Oh…and I had my bras and underwear. I had about two dozen pairs of those, each matching. There was the makeup, too, in a makeup bag. The wig in another bag, tucked in the corner. One black purse. And the silicon forms. All of this didn't take up much space in the trunk, and I was forever hoping to expand my wardrobe.

Why am I telling you all of this, you wonder? Well… Because. Someone needs to understand, fully. Not just try to, but actually listen to my story and think about it and _understand_ what I'm talking about, because it's driving me insane. I need to get it out.

I really do.

I know it's weird. I know that, if people found out, they'd consider me a freak. Most people, I'm sure. I know it's probably better for me not to risk it, to just stop with the dressing up, especially in public, but I don't. It's who I am, so I don't stop.

No one gets it.

* * *

><p>Last year, I realized something unsettling…Ma was a hurtful person. Not physically, but with words. The woman could say one thing, something very simple, and it would stick with you until it drove you insane. Here's my example:<p>

"Why do you keep shaving your legs?"

"What?"

"Your legs. You always shave them. Why?"

I had just eyed Ma silently, shrugging before shooting a glance in Rox's direction. The blonde met my gaze, sighed. It was going on ten, Roxas and I had already eaten dinner, and we didn't feel like going to bed just yet, so we decided to laze around in the living room and flip channels.

I was basically sprawled out on the big sofa, feet propped up in my brother's lap. He was sitting up, the remote held loosely in his hand. He had just flipped to Family Guy when Ma had walked into the room, heels clicking and red suit jacket hanging off her shoulders. That's when she had stopped and eyed my legs—I was wearing shorts tonight—and made her comment.

_Why are you paying attention to that anyway?_ I wanted to ask back, but I stayed quiet.

She frowned, setting her purse and folders from work onto the small leather couch to our left. The woman shook her mess of brown curls loose from its bun, tossing her scrunchy onto the couch as well. She started slipping her shoes off as she spoke, leaning down to remove them with one hand and gripping the back of the couch with the other. "You don't need to do it. The more you shave, the more hair grows back, you know."

Roxas, choosing to stay out of the conversation, turned the TV up ever so slightly and started paying painfully close attention to the commercial that had switched on. I could feel a slight twitch well up in my legs, but I stayed put and just shook my head at my mother. "You don't get on Rox's case for shaving his legs."

"That's 'cause I don't shave my legs," the blonde muttered offhandedly. I kicked his thigh. ("Ow!")

"Knock it off," Ma said with a sigh, tossing her shoes onto the living room carpet. She looked like she wanted to say something else, opened her mouth for a second before pressing her lips thin together and just shook her head.

She was always shaking her head.

She headed towards the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "What did you eat?"

"Ordered pizza," we both called back at once, eyeing the television screen once more. And that was that. We could hear the clip of the fridge door opening and closing, the microwave being started. Three beeps, then the gentle _whrrrr_ as Ma heated herself some leftover pizza.

Family Guy came back on after the commercial—an amazingly stupid yet oddly entertaining show—and we just watched it quietly, chuckling here and there. We didn't mention the random conversation Ma had brought up.

My eyes kept wandering to my legs, though.

* * *

><p>I met Axel last year by accident. I'd known about him before then because Roxas had mentioned him once or twice, but I had never seen him in person. He was Roxas' close friend. Boyfriend? Whether it was then or now, I don't know. I'm still not sure exactly…<em>what <em>their relationship is. Rox (supposedly) doesn't swing that way. But I'm sure about them being close. Apparently the red head had been one of Rox's junior buddies in high school during the blonde's freshman year, and they'd been two peas in a pod ever since.

But they hadn't gotten to see much of each other when Axel finally graduated two years after and moved his way out of town, to a larger city. By the time I got to meet him, he was already a freshman in college. He had decided to come back home and visit for Spring Break. In fact, he'd gone straight to Rox's school during the afternoon and met up with the blonde when classes had let out. And instead of taking the bus home, Rox had decided to get a ride and catch up with his green eyed friend while he was at it.

Of course, I hadn't known this at first, so I was unprepared for the…incident.

See, my school let us out earlier than Rox's did, about an hour or so since we started the day earlier than my brother's school. So when I got home, when I had the house to myself, I usually dressed. You know. With the wig and all. The bra, the fake bosoms, the heels. I experimented with makeup, checking myself in the bathroom mirror as I did so. (The one upstairs. Downstairs was too small, didn't have a counter for me to set my makeup bag on.)

I remember that particular day vividly. I just had the wig on and was putting on some teal and purple eye shadow. I'd already gotten the purple lipstick on—it's an almost pinkish purple, you know, like a pastel or crayon. One of my favorite shades. I had the curling iron plugged in, because I wanted to see what small, tight curls would look like with my face. I had the T-shirt I had worn to school that day on, but had slipped off the pants because it had been hot in the house. So I was just, you know. Shootin' the breeze, I guess. I mean, I had underwear on! But a lacey pair. It covered everything up, mostly, so I didn't think it was too bad.

That day, I looked good. I mean, I _really_ looked good. I was getting into it, had already started curling my hair—

"—ust order whatever, I don't really care."

And the stranger walked in.

I hadn't heard the front door from downstairs, or the slight creak of the stairs as the red haired stranger had made his way to the second floor. I hadn't heard him calling over his shoulder something to Roxas about pizza. None of that. So I was caught off guard when he just walked in out of the blue.

I froze on the spot, curling iron still blanketed in wig hair and held tightly in my hand. Blue eyes grew wide and just stared. He had stared back, lanky hand still on the doorknob and body still in the doorway. There had been a slightly shocked look on his face—he'd eyed me up and down and had realized something I hadn't want him to know—before it was replaced with one of fascination.

Smelling the faint scent of overheated hair, I unraveled the curling iron and set it carefully on the counter, avoiding the attractive stranger's eye. My face felt hot right then. "T-there's another bathroom…downstairs."

"Ah…yeah." He nodded, scratched the back of his head. "Right."

He didn't leave right away, though. Not until another pair of footsteps sounded up the stairs and Roxas' voice trailed into the room. "How long does it take for you to piss, Ax—"

And he stopped then, a good couple of feet away from the bathroom with eyes wide and annoyance written on his face. He looked straight at me, glaring. "The _fuck_ are you doing?"

"Just…"

Words left me. Not that it mattered. Rox didn't even give me enough time to defend or explain myself, simply giving an angry huff and snatching onto Axel's arm. He yanked the red head out of the doorway, slamming the door behind him.

"Was that your…brother?"

"Don't worry about it. Christ… He's always doing shit like this."

_Tune him out_. My face was still red. _Tune them out._

Crap… My eyes were stinging with tears. I didn't wipe them, though… Didn't want to smear my makeup.

_No, forget the makeup._

I took it off, everything. Went back to my room and changed back into my school clothes, put my things away.

The entire time my face was still red.

I had stayed upstairs after that, hanging around in my room, busying myself with algebra homework. Trying to tune out the sound of Roxas' peeved voice.

_He's always doing shit like this._

Always…

_Is that your…brother?_

"Sora!"

Rox's call drifted into my room, jolting me from my seat at my desk. I didn't move right away, waited, until he called me again. Louder. Reluctantly, I headed downstairs, followed his voice in the kitchen.

The blonde had the house phone in his hand, was leaning against one of the kitchen counters. Axel, that curious young man, was sitting at the dinner table by the back door, a glass of juice in his hand. He was slouched in the chair, his free hand pressed to his cheek and his elbow on the table. Eyeing me with the same look of fascination from minutes ago.

I looked away. "What?"

Rox still had that pissed look on his face, more subdued, but his voice was calm. He held up the phone. "I'm ordering pizza. What do you want?"

"Um… Pepperoni's fine."

"'Kay." Then he was dialing the number and wandering out the kitchen. Leaving me alone with his fiery haired guest.

Just the two of us.

At that moment my heart started jack hammering in my chest. I could feel his jewel toned gaze burning into my skin as I turned my back on him and pulled a bottle of water the fridge. The silence between us was deafening.

_Why, why, WHY did he have to see? Why is he just staring? Why'd Rox have to _embarrass_ me like that?_

So many whys, so much confusion and anger I felt towards myself.

"You do that often?" he finally asked, and I think he was trying to be nonchalant about it, but I still wasn't looking at his face.

I closed the fridge and took a short drink from my water. Stalled for a minute by walking over towards the counter and refusing to turn towards him. "Not…often. I mean, not really, just…"

"Often enough?"

"Yeah… I guess."

Why was this so awkward? The urge to run from the room was steadily growing inside of me, but for some reason I stayed put. It fell silent again, and eventually I managed to turn towards him. Still, I didn't quite look him in the eye. I did look over his face though. The same curious expression. I hadn't noticed the little tattoos underneath his eyes, either; they seemed to suit him. And his hair… That was some wild hair. I'd always thought mine was bad… As odd as he looked, he was actually really cute.

He tapped a finger against his juice glass, still staring at me. "It's funny. I didn't know Rox had a brother."

"We, um… We go to different schools."

"Why?"

"Well, I used to live with our grandma. She's, like, an hour away. Not insanely far, but at the time I was closer to the school there. So I just went there."

"So it's a district thing."

"Yeah."

"You live here now, though."

"Yeah… But, the district thing again. Since Grams is still technically my legal guardian, I'm supposed to go to school in that city."

Some of the awkwardness had ebbed away as I spoke, and I found that I could look this guy in the face without mine flushing. There was a grin on his face. Nothing rude or sinister, just a genuine interested smile.

This guy…was weird.

I remember thinking that, then realizing the irony of the statement.

"You could pass for a chick, you know," he said, which only caused the heat to rise to my face again. I took a nervous drink from my bottle, didn't reply, but he went on. Laughing as he talked. "Actually, I thought you were for a minute back there. I thought 'Shit, I walked in on Rox's little sis,' or something. If I hadn't looked, well. You know, down. I wouldn't have guessed—"

"You don't have to mock me, you know," I said quietly but sharply enough for him to take the hint.

He just shook his head at that, waving a hand at me. He leaned forward in his chair so quickly, I almost jumped back. "No. You're pretty."

"Y..you're just saying that because—"

"I'm being dead serious."

And he was, I had realized. He was sucking me in with those eyes and giving me what I figured could be his poker face—but there was sincerity in his words. His tone. He was looking me dead in the eye—that's one thing I learned about Axel later, that he always looked you in the eye when he talked to you—as if trying to mentally will me to believe him.

I did.

I wanted to say something then. I wasn't sure what and I couldn't get my words out because I felt really flustered. It must have shown on my face, because Axel smiled amusedly and took another sip of juice to hide his quiet laughter.

Roxas walked back in with the phone still in his hand, glanced at me then at Axel, then arched an eyebrow. Hanging the phone back on the wall by the entrance, he announced, "Pizza's on its way."

"Took you long enough," Axel said.

"Shut up." The blonde eyed me once more, eyes calculating. "What's with you?"

"What?"

"Your face is red."

I frowned. "It's hot in here."

"Uh-huh." He still looked upset.

The room grew silent once more. Before it got too quiet, too awkward, Axel downed the last of his juice and smacked his lips loudly, waving the glass towards Roxas. "Oh waiter! I thirst."

"You got legs, don't you? The fridge is right there."

"Ooo, Roxy, you're mean to your guests."

"No, just you."

They went back and forth, Axel pressing my brother's buttons and Roxas acting like he was ready to dump the red head out on the street. But they were really getting along, and I could tell they were enjoying each other's company. So I slipped out of the kitchen and went back upstairs to leave them alone. I only came back down for the pizza ten minutes later, and we basically took over the living room and watched TV as we ate. They played the Wii for a bit while I watched, hugging a pillow to my chest.

Then, around seven, Axel said he had to call it a day and get back home. He had some friends he'd promised to hang with for the night. Roxas walked out with him and I'm sure they talked a little longer before Axel got in his car and left.

He hadn't said goodbye to me, merely shot me a smile and a wink. A little pink in the face, I simply gave a shy wave and smile back. Then he was gone, driving off in his Hyundai Sonata. Roxas didn't say anything about the little incident earlier, didn't even talk to me for the rest of the day, but that was the furthest thing from my mind. Something about Axel…stirred something inside of me, something I couldn't explain, and that was all I thought about for the rest of that day.

Maybe he understood.

* * *

><p>I'll be honest. I really like Axel. In a weird way, though. I wouldn't call it straight physical attraction—he <em>was<em> very attractive, but that wasn't quite it. I wouldn't call it plain friendship, either. We were friends, yes—we had been ever since that day. It was like a mix of both. He had ended up transferring out of his school and into a different university back at home. Something about not liking the campus. I can't remember.

How do I put it? My relationship with the red head is kind of like what he had with Roxas. They were friends, best friends at that. They could talk to each other any kind of way they want and it'd be okay. They _knew_ each other like that. Then they were like brothers. Honestly, I think Rox considered Axel more of a brother than me. Understandable. Then I think there's some sort of spark between them, some sort of attraction—dare I say a form of love?—that the blonde wouldn't admit to and the older male wouldn't push.

I'm not slow. I see the way Axel looks at my brother. It's like there's friction; they just chose to ignore it.

And maybe that's the reason why the college sophomore turned his sights to me? Maybe that's the reason why the same spark developed between us?

With Axel closer to home, he had more time to spend with us after his classes. Of course, unless it was the weekend, his afternoon schedule usually conflicted with Rox's who always had some sort of club or practice to go to. So it would just be Axel and me.

For much of the year after I had first met him, it was usually just Axel and me.

We often went out shopping, sometimes sat down somewhere for an early dinner. Or we just hung around the house. Sometimes he stayed over so long that Ma would come home and ask him if he wanted to stay the night.

It wasn't until three months passed that the red head asked me if I could go out one day dressed in my girl clothes. Wig and all.

"I just wanna see what the whole thing looks like."

I could have told him no. Or, since part of me did want to show him, I could have said I could just show him one day at home, when Ma and Rox were out of the house. I could have, but I went with my gut feeling instead and met up with him the next day at the mall in a yellow sun dress and my white heels. I'd expected him to stare like before, to eye me up and down, but he just greeted me as usually with that beautiful grin of his and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before leading me into the building. The same look of fascination had crossed his face, but that was it.

No one noticed or said a thing. I started dressing up whenever we went out from that point on.

After I had started dressing up as a girl for our outings, he started spending more time at our house, more time talking with me and less time with Roxas. After I had started dressing up as a girl more often, he took me out more. To movies, to his friends' places, to different parts of his campus when I was free on the weekends. After I had started dressing up more and more, Roxas started getting annoyed more and more. Eventually he just stopped talking to me unless absolutely necessary.

Eventually, he stopped talking to Axel too.

Axel and I, we just ignored it and kept doing our thing without him.

That pocket of guilt still sits in the back of my mind—but, like I said, I really like Axel.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God!"<p>

"You like them?"

"I _love_ them!"

Axel. Forever. That's what I thought. I'd adore this man forever. I mean, I loved him to freakin' pieces right now!

We were at the mall. It was one of those rare Saturdays where Ma didn't mind if we were out for most of the day, so Axel and I were just hanging out. We'd just come out of Gamestop, had decided to slow it down long enough and sit down to eat. I hadn't expected him to hold out his Forever 21 bag and hand it to me.

Wide eyes curious, I had simply taken the yellow bag and peered inside before literally spazzing in my seat. Some other people sitting at tables around us shot questioning looks our way, but it didn't matter. It didn't _matter_ because my heart was racing and I had this big stupid grin on my face. Axel just laughed, his eyes with him.

It was an outfit. Like, a really nice outfit. A black blouse with a frilled neck collar coming down into a V shape. The sleeves were long, silky. Then there was the skirt, an equally silky fabric, with lavender frills lining the bottom. Freakin' lavender that I totally had the eye shadow and lipstick to match with!

I didn't take it out of the bag, though, just reached in and ran my fingers through it, looking up at Axel as if I were about to cry. "When did you get this?"

The red head smiled that smile of his, something that could only be described as something amazingly Axel, and replied, "When you were fartin' around in Borders. I figured I had enough time, so I picked it up. Saw it last week, thought it might look good on you."

"But that place isn't cheap!"

"And?"

"You didn't have to—"

"That's what gifts are about, dumbass." He said it with a laugh. Said it with a laugh that just warmed me even more. "You don't _have_ to; you just do it because you _want_ to."

I really think I was about to cry. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." He took a sip of his milkshake, watched as I messed around with the clothes in the bag once more before adding, "…I think you should wear it tomorrow night."

What? The question must have been apparent on my face, because he had that amused expression again.

"Tomorrow night. A friend of mine's throwing some sort of party at this club called Myst."

"That private night club downtown?"

"Yup. It's invitation only, and I have an extra invite, so… You know."

Yeah, I did, but I still found it strange when he didn't quite finish his sentence. The red head took another sip of his milkshake, practically sucking his poor straw dry, avoiding my eye. I couldn't keep from grinning once more.

"Axel, are you asking me out on a date?"

"Are you saying yes?"

"…Yeah. Yes."

And he smiled again, something a little different from his usually smile. Something I couldn't quite place, but didn't think much of.

"I'll pick you up at seven."

* * *

><p>I wore the outfit he'd bought me. He must have been a pervert stalker, or something, and broke into my room when I was sleeping to get my measurements. That, or was just really good at guessing sizes. It fit so perfectly, I was surprised. I triple checked myself in the bathroom (upstairs) mirror, then went to my room and packed my purse.<p>

I was just rechecking the little black invitation card Axel had given me yesterday when Roxas poked his head in the room. Which didn't happen often. I looked over at him, only to notice he was dressed up too. A black dress shirt with the top buttons undone, a red tie hanging messily around his neck, skinny jeans, and his dress shoes.

I stared at him curiously. "Got a date?"

"Xion and her dad are here," he said quietly. Paused for a moment. "They wanted to know if you wanted a ride to the party."

Huh. "You're going too?"

"Why wouldn't I? I was invited."

"Oh."

"Demyx told me about it last week… Are you coming or not?"

"Um, Axel's… I'm riding with him."

"'Kay."

Then he left.

Twenty minutes later Axel had driven up to the curb in front of the house and gave an obnoxious honk. (He could be immature sometimes.) Ma wouldn't be home for another three-ish hours, so I didn't have to worry about her seeing me made up as I rushed out the door with my heeled boots clicking against the concrete and my wig whipping at the air.

The night air felt free.

There were two others in the backseat, some blue haired girl I had never met before—Aqua, was it? She had on this really cute indigo cocktail dress that fit her figure, her hair and eyes amazingly. The other person was one of Axel's friends from TTU, Zexion. The red head had mentioned him before on plenty of occasions, but this was the first time I had met the shorter male in person. He didn't really talk much…

For most of the ride I spoke with Aqua, asking her where she had gotten her dress, (because I wanted one just like it.) How she fashioned her hair the way she did. Where she went to school and what campus life was like, what her major was. The entire time I raised my voice a bit, made it sound a little sweeter without trying too hard.

I don't think anyone save for Axel realized I wasn't a girl.

* * *

><p>The lights were flying in every direction, different dots of color. People were acting wild, shaking, jumping, bumping, grinding, <em>being<em>. I didn't know these people; most of them looked my age, but I didn't know them. They probably went to Roxas' school. It didn't matter who you were or where you came from tonight, though. What mattered was losing it on that dance floor and releasing yourself.

Axel and I released ourselves for a good hour, song after song, moving along with the crowd as the lights showered over us, moving with each other while whooping and singing along with the music. In that moment, I didn't think about any of my troubles. Not about Ma, or Rox and his attitude, not about school or being found out.

How many people know what it's like to feel so free?

The beat changed again, boppy, to _Only Girl in the World_. Rihanna was giving it her all, breaking it down, and it was then that I felt something about the song click within me. I mean, it was in the words. I was pressed close to Axel, back to his chest, rocking my hips against his. Laughing with him. And when I looked back over my shoulder at him, we locked eyes. The words, the lyrics said it all for me.

And we sang while we danced.

It was when the song changed again that we took a break for drinks. Zexion, was in a corner of the room with some others, a plastic cup with alcohol in it in one hand and in the other a bottle of the same liquid wrapped in a brown paper bag. Axel had picked us up plastic cups from some table and coaxed his friend for a couple of drinks. Handed me the cup.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, frowning a bit. "I'm not old enough to drink."

"Neither am I." He smirked while he said it, taking a shot.

"Yeah, but you're a year away from being able to!"

"Just drink it, you pansy. Your mommy's not gonna find out."

As right as he was, I still didn't feel comfortable about it. Especially since he was supposed to be driving me back home tonight.

I drank anyway, two shots. Felt light headed right after the first couple of sips, but still I went for the two shots. I felt woozy after I'd finished the second drink, so much so that I needed to sit down. I headed for the bar, weaving through people, a wobble in my step. Yeah, I _really _needed sit down for a bit.

But I didn't make it very close to the bar before Axel caught up with me and grabbed onto my wrists. He was tipsy. Not drunk, but not sober. There was a playful look in his eye and he had a Cheshire Cat grin spread on his lips.

"Let's go somewhere," he'd said. Then he started tugging me towards the back exit, emerald gaze locked on me.

"Go…where?"

"Just come with me."

There was no rhyme or reason for what he did next. It was so out of the blue, so random. And yet…

We went into the alley around the back of the building once we made it outside, the night air biting at my exposed legs. Could barely see; my eyes needed to adjust to the slight change in lighting. Axel wasn't letting me go.

"W-wait… Axel, wait."

He wouldn't, though, and ended up pushing me against the brick wall, pressing his lips to mine in a hungry fashion.

He was kissing me.

_Axel_ was _kissing_ me.

I think my heart stopped. My voice was nothing more than a whisper when he leaned back, staring into my eyes with an amused expression. "W..what was that for?"

Then he whispered back, running a hand along my cheek. "Relax."

That one word. I couldn't think. I really couldn't. And he sank to his knees in front of me, never taking his eyes away. All I could to was stare into those pools of green, heart screaming in my chest. My whole body screaming at once.

His hands were steady, dragging themselves down my legs before lifting up my skirt. He pulled down my underwear ever so slightly, causing my breath to hitch. Then I saw where his mouth was moving and my hands shot towards his hair. "No!"

He was already doing his thing, though, making a shiver crush through my veins and causing me to throw my head back as he worked his mouth. I closed my eyes when he spread my legs a little more, letting out a breathy moan.

_Oh God._

I could feel the sly smile on his lips, on my arousal. It was a slick tickle that grew more intense with every second, and I couldn't take the heat pooling _down there_. My legs gave in, but the older male held me up by my hips. Continued to suck, continued to steal my breath and turn my whole body to jello.

I gave a sharp cry as I released. My back bumped along the moist brick as I slid to the ground, Axel looming over me on his knees. I opened my eyes. His smile was still there, the playful spark in his eye as he planted yet another kiss. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip; his hands were still on my hips, running up and down, telling me he still wanted more.

I think… Yes. I wanted more too.

"N-not here," I managed to breath, fingers still tangled in his fiery spikes.

His nose bumped against my cheek. "Hm?"

"Not here. Someone could see."

"The car."

The parking lot wasn't far. We wasted no time the moment we got in the car. He locked the door before pushing me onto the leather of the back seat, hands roaming, rubbing, slipping underneath the blouse. I had my fingers gripped in his hair, moved them long enough to yank the blouse off. He took the bra, reached underneath my back and snapped it off—he did that _way too_ easily—before tossing it to the floor. The silicon forms fell with it, leaving my chest flat and bare.

_I don't like this…_

He didn't touch my chest. No, he kissed me though. Again. Deeply, and I decided I didn't care if he didn't touch me like a woman and just kissed back. His tongue danced in my mouth before he moved for my neck and licked the dip between my shoulder.

Next to go was the skirt. Actually, no, he didn't take it off. He just lifted it up like he had in the back alley, peeling off my underwear completely. My hand fumbled for his zipper, found it, loosened his pants until both our parts were bare. I felt him move, felt him put his mouth on me again before moving even lower to my entrance. And when I felt his tongue pressing in—Oh my God!—I arched my back with a sharp gasp and closed my eyes.

"A…xe…l!" A moan tore itself from my lips. He was good with his tongue.

_He's too good at this._

I felt a little out of control…actually. I wondered how much of this was Axel and how much of it was the alcohol. My head was still light, it was too dark for comfort, and my body felt like it was on fire. Yet he kept going until he thought I was good and ready, until I felt good and ready, then I hooked my arms around the man's neck as he pressed himself into me.

"Ow!" Manicured nails dug into the man's back. I sucked in a breath. "Ah…"

"Relax your body."

"I…I am."

Not really, not at first. It was tight. It was tight and it hurt, especially when he started moving. He was slow at first, careful, listening to the squeak-like groans I let out and adjusting. Then the pain seemed to shed itself away and melted into something else, something _right_, and that's when he started driving into me with all the hunger and need he had held back before. It felt so freakin' good, I wondered how it would be different…

Would it have been different had I been a girl?

Would this even be happening if I was a girl?

At some point we changed positions, Axel sitting and me straddling him. He drove my hips down, kept thrusting as he did so and I couldn't keep a scream of pleasure from escaping into the air. I held onto him, threw my head back. Screamed his name, felt him bury his face in my shoulder.

Everything had seemed to happen so fast, and just as quickly it had ended. He spilled into me, calling out. "Shit— Sora." And that was that. We slid back down in the seat, lying against the tan leather and panting. I felt his heartbeat on the side of my face, which was pressed to his chest. I felt the light layer of sweat on my skin making his shirt stick to me.

I felt like I'd just gone to Heaven and back.

He hugged me close to him, nose nuzzling my hair, my ear, and then he whispered something almost desperately that changed everything:

"Don't tell Roxas."

And that's when I felt the pit of my stomach drop, sink, and my entire body ran cold because I realized what this was really about. Everything he had just done, everything I had just done with him. He had just wanted it out of his system. Not because he cared, but because I was there and willing.

He'd never really seen me as the girl I was. He just saw Sora the boy, the guy. He'd just seen me as a piece of tail to chase after since Roxas wouldn't give him the time of day. Just a replacement he could dress up and talk sweet to and string along when he felt like it.

That's when I realized all of this and gently pushed him away from me, started putting my clothes back on and fixing my wig. And I think he knew that I had realized it too, because he didn't say a stinking word and just let me slip out of the car and onto the night streets without coming after me. Without stopping me, without caring that I was about to find a different way home by myself.

He'd never really understood.


	3. Paparazzi

**Author's Note:** I've seriously been writing nonstop for this, and I don't know why. It's just coming out. I can't explain it. But I wanted to thank you all for your comments! They mean a lot and they just really make my day. Know that, even though I don't reply, I read and appreciate every one of them!

_Lenneko-Chan, thanks for pointing out the continuity error! And xXJuliets SecretXx, thanks for the spelling error! Both fixed now~_

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; Need That Picture of You<br>**

I should have gotten a picture.

Not of that scene back in the alleyway, no, but when I had first saw her—him. Whichever. I should have snapped a picture, even if it was a quick one. I still remembered her—him, damn it—vividly. Those eyes. That hair. Had that been real hair? The blouse with the frilled collar that fell _just right_ around the chest without revealing too much. If there was anything to reveal in the first place. That skirt, the hips it clung to. Those legs… Mostly the face. What a face.

I was confused. Really. I just didn't get it. Was it even possible for a guy to be that…what's the word?

Gorgeous?

No, I didn't get it at all. But. That's all I could think about when I got home that night. But. I hadn't gotten a very close look at her face. His face. But. Maybe the reason why it bothered me so much was because of what followed afterward in that alleyway. Who was that Axel guy, and why? But. I'm not making sense, but that's mostly because I didn't understand anything right now. But. His face… But.

But she's a guy.

I should have gotten a picture…

"Shh… Don't—aha! Gr—Gre— Greg, stop! That tickles!"

_Seriously?_

And, of course, Mom had a way of snapping me right out of my thoughts when I least expected it. When all I wanted to do was get some damn sleep—even though images of that brunette were floating around in my head, keeping me from staying asleep for longer than ten minutes. She often came home late, but usually she was quiet about it.

"Shush, shh…" The woman giggled. Footsteps in the hallway. A man's voice, low. Both drunk.

Another one. Again. Seriously?

I heard them bump against my door, fumble around again. Mom said something unintelligible, causing this Greg to chuckle. God. I rolled over in my bed, lifting the sheets from my head to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was one _fucking_ thirty in the morning.

They were still doing _something_ in the middle of the hallway, right on my door, when I reached out of bed and picked up a stray sneaker. Threw it at the door with a tired yell, "Get a _room_ already!"

More giggling, more whispering. Then I heard them make their way to Mom's room, heard the gentle click of the door and the not so gentle sound of two bodies crushing together and plopping onto her bed.

Jeez.

* * *

><p>I woke to the sound of Christina Aguilera singing from the living room. Must have been the radio, an old little thing Mom had bought at some vintage store that still sold records and lava lamps and all that hippie crap. It was a small thing, but it could get pretty loud. Some song…I don't know the name. Mom was singing along with it, though, matching all the high notes. The low ones. Singing the chorus. The woman can sing, no doubt. I just didn't wanna hear it first thing in the morning.<p>

"…_Something's got a hold on me right now, child._

_Oooh, it must be love._

_Let me tell you now. I've never felt like this before._

_Something's got a hold of me an' it won't let go—_"

Ah, jeez.

Sighing into my pillow, I scratched at the back of my head and checked my clock only to realize it was much earlier than I would have liked. Six twenty-two. Eh. No point trying to go back to sleep.

So I rolled out of bed, not even bothering with throwing a shirt on, and headed straight for the bathroom. Noticed that Mom had left her clothes and underwear—along with "Greg's"—on the floor and simply kicked them out into the hallway.

I took my time getting ready that morning; really, there was no rush. I took a long shower just to drown out the sound of Mom's voice, the sound of her latest boy toy. (Why the hell was he still here?) My arms and legs felt like lead as I got dressed. My head hurt, too… Food. I needed something in my stomach, even if it was small.

So I headed for the kitchen with the intention of getting my breakfast, eating it, and getting out without dealing with my mother or her current plaything. Boyfriend. Did it really matter, with her?

They had cozied up beside each other on the weathered sofa, the man half lying down half sitting with Mom's head resting in his lap. She was still singing along with the little radio on the coffee table, her features bright as she did so. My eyes fell on the man she was with. I stopped in the hallway long enough to examine him, far enough that they wouldn't notice me right away.

He was handsome. Like most of the men she brought home. Had the wavy brown hair, squinty amber eyes that fit his face. High cheekbones, thin nose, angled jaw. He had a sharp face, but it suited him. And a tan. Yeah… At least he was clean shaven, didn't look like the usual creeper that frequented the club Mom danced at. They were both wearing bathrobes, loosely tied up. Mom had her powder blue one with the white lace to tie it close. And him, Greg… He was wearing my father's old robe, the maroon and gold one.

I sighed and walked past them, headed for the kitchen. I would have kept going if Mom hadn't stopped me with a whistle, hadn't sat up and turned the music on her radio down a little. She was all toothy smiles today. "Mornin', baby."

"Morning."

"There's someone I want you to meet."

I really didn't want to do this right now. She couldn't tell, but I really didn't want to do this at all.

They just didn't notice my peeved expression, though, so they both shot me those toothy smiles. Greg—damn, he had a nice smile—had a polite look about him as Mom introduced him. Like he needed an introduction after last night... "Riku, this is Greg."

And before he could even say anything in greeting, before he could get it in his head that I would pay him any mind, I simply replied, "Don't really care."

Of course, that shut him up before he could even get the words out. He was still trying to look polite, but I could see the disdain growing in his amber eyes.

Mom scowled, lips stretched thin. "You're being rude."

"So were you."

She knew I meant last night, but she didn't say anything. Honestly, I just didn't care. Somehow I felt more tired now than I had the other night. I went to the kitchen then, wordlessly fixing myself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs while Mom and Greg started talking. They were trying to be quiet, but—thin walls. It's a hard thing to do in this place.

"Is he always like that?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Kids, you know? What're you gonna do? But, anyway…" Her voice dropped to a playful purr. "About that breakfast. We can go after he leaves for school. Maybe, an hour or two from now."

"Mm, and what should we do in the meantime?"

"Oh, you know what I'm thinking." And she giggled again before they started kissing. You know, the kind you can hear, with the lips smacking and everything. The kind where both people are _really_ into it.

_Shoot me now._

I shoveled a few spoonfuls of cereal in my mouth, trying my best to ignore them before calling out. "I can still hear you, you know."

Lips parted. Greg gave an angry groan, and I could hear my mother sucking her teeth in annoyance. It was clear in her tone. "Don't you have somewhere else to go?"

"Don't you have someone else to fuck?"

Something told me I should have regretted saying it immediately after it slipped out of my mouth. The reality is I didn't. I paused, setting my bowl on the counter and letting the spoon dip back into the brown milk. Waiting for her response. When there was none, I just went on eating. The music, the radio, was switched off shortly after.

It wasn't until I heard shuffling from the living room—sounded like they were getting their stuff together, fixing their robes properly—that I picked up my bowl and made my way to the entrance of the kitchen. I saw Greg heading down the hallway, for the bathroom. Probably for his clothes. Mom walked right up to me, milky green eyes narrowed.

Hurt. Angry. But mostly hurt.

She looked up at me and muttered, "Screw you."

Then she whipped around and followed after her boy toy.

Whatever.

I know, harsh. But you know what? We had emotional disconnects, on and off, all the time. I don't know what it is. One day we could love each other unconditionally. Sometimes we snipped at each other back and forth, acting more like siblings than mother and son. Sometimes I couldn't stand the thought that she was breathing the same air as me, that I was related to her in any way shape or form. Then we went right back to loving each other. It's a cycle, almost.

She learned to get over it and so did I.

Whatever.

* * *

><p>"Was that party amazing, or was it amazing?"<p>

Kairi laughed, looping her arm through Naminé's the moment the blonde seated herself at our lunch table. "Yeah, it was great!"

The cardigans, today. They both had on peach colored cardigans, unbuttoned, over white tank tops. Except Kairi had on the white denim skirt and Naminé sported beige skinny jeans. Same wedged heels. How were they not coordinating this? It made no sense.

I just watched them silently as they talked about last night, about the club and how it was a shame that it took money to get in. The invites for the party had covered the cost last night, but now that we had gotten a taste… Well, they wanted to go back.

They had their talk, but I didn't really pay much attention. The brunette came back to mind. The red head he had been with. The alley. I was right to leave them, right? Or should I have butt in? Now that I thought about it, that hadn't even crossed my mind until now…if the brunette had made it out alright…

"—listening?"

I blinked, looking into two pairs of identical blue eyes. "What?"

Naminé arched a slender brow. "Are you feeling alright?"

Good question. I really didn't know. I felt a little out of it. Still, I nodded and picked at a carrot stick lying on my tray, dipped it in the splatter of ranch before popping it in my mouth. "I'm listening."

"I was asking if you talked to anyone at the party."

"What?"

"You know," Kairi said, playfully nudging her girlfriend's shoulder. "Did you meet some cute thing, chat 'em up?"

Huh. "Sorta."

"Really?"

They were both staring at me, eyes wide with surprise now, unsure if I was jerking their chains or if I was telling the truth. Well. There was some hint of truth, right? I did meet someone, just didn't talk to her. Him. Crap…

Immediately the girls tried to pry answers out of me, going back and forth with their questions.

"Who is she?"

"Or is it a he?"

"What do they look like?"

"What'd you say, huh?"

"Did you two dance?"

"Is it someone we know?"

They were getting so worked up over it I couldn't help but snort a laugh, popping another carrot stick in my mouth. "Just because you won't stop bothering me about it, I'm not telling you."

Simultaneously: "No fair!"

Really, they were like twins. It was creepy sometimes.

I just smiled a small smile, ignoring their pleas to tell them about this mystery person who must have been all that and a bag of chips since I refused to spill. Eventually they gave up—"You're a meanie, Riku."—and moved on to different topics. Kairi reached over the table for my backpack, unzipped the front pocket.

I didn't stop her as she pulled out my camera and started skimming through the pictures. "Anything new?"

"Not a whole much since last time."

Every now and then at lunch—because that was the only time the three of us really got to see each other, save for after school—they would check through my pictures together, always side by side with their eyes glued to the little screen as if watching a really good movie. And they'd comment—

"Oh, this one's good," Naminé uttered, leaning closer to Kairi. The red head nodded in agreement.

"Oh my God! I love the shadows in this one. Is that your mom?"

"That one's nice. A little blurry, though."

And I'd just sit there quietly and let them do their thing. If I wasn't so confident with a camera, part of me would probably think they were just saying what they did because they were my friends. Unlike the two of them, I had a very high standard for what I considered to be good or nice. Unlike the two of them, I thought half of the pictures on there were crap and needed to be cleared out or enhanced. I'd take care of it later, maybe.

I tried to sneak a look at the camera screen when the two let out a giggly, "Aww!"

There was a picture of one of the cakes on the screen now. It was in a glass display case, resting proudly on its plate. It was a round cake, like half a sphere, covered completely in pink frosting. Except it was made to look like a pig, with square cookies for ears, a round sugar cookie for a nose, and a pink frosted cinnamon roll for a tail. I remembered, Aerith had tried to get me to try a piece, but I kept saying no. Honestly, it was a sugary death trap waiting to happen. Of course, the girls thought it was just the cutest thing.

Naminé awed once more. "Where is this?"

"Sonata Tea House," I replied with a sigh, poking at my tray. "It's out in town."

"What other kind of food do they have there?"

"Tea, obviously. Breakfast food. Cakes, cookies, muffins. Just baked stuff."

"Oh, I wanna try some."

"It's gonna make your thighs fatter."

"Ugh!"

Kairi, fighting her amused giggles, shook her head at me with a somewhat serious expression on her face. "Ouch, Riku. Why are you so cranky today? I don't like it."

"Are you on your man period?" Naminé pitched in, stealing and munching on one of my carrot sticks with a pout.

I would have joked back, but I didn't feel like it. I couldn't explain it. Something… I just didn't feel like it today. Didn't really feel like much of anything today. Was it because of that guy? Was I seriously sulking because I hadn't gotten one picture of some random stranger? Some random, beautiful stranger? Or maybe it was my little snipe at Mom this morning.

_What the hell is wrong with me today?_

The bell rang. Time for third period. The bustle and shuffle of the cafeteria grew louder as students moved from their seats and headed for the halls. Naminé was eyeing me with this excited look in her eye as we rose from our seats. "What's the address? Let's go there some time."

"Why?"

"_Please_, Riku? You can bring your new girlfriend or whatever and we can have a double date there."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Yes?"

"Sure."

"Sweet beans! I'll call you later so we can set up a time."

The girls both handed back my camera with identical grins. I took it from their hands and placed it back in my bag. Kairi stopped for a moment, though, before Naminé could drag her off to their next class. She stopped and pulled me into a hug and whispered something in my ear. "Feel better, okay?"

And I couldn't help but nod and return the smile before pulling away. "Yeah."

Then they went down their hallway and I left for mine.

* * *

><p>"—and the Action Potential, the nerve impulse, takes place within the membrane rather than the whole nerve itself. The impulse is sent to the opposite end of the nerve—"<p>

_She looks nice today. That's a new dress…_ Yeah, silver suited our mousy teacher, Mrs. Belle. She was a short, curvy force to be reckoned with. The frill that ran diagonally on her collar reminded me of the blouse from the other night…

Mrs. Belle tapped the diagram on the board with her manicured finger—the nail was the same green as my eyes—and pointed to the spindly ends of the nerve she was talking about. Honestly, I liked my psych class, but days like these where we did nothing but take notes, notes, notes wore thin on my nerves. (Ha. Pun intended.) It was almost over, though. Just five more minutes.

I thought this and glanced towards the door, towards the clock hanging above it. But, instead of checking the time, I met his blue gaze. I blinked at the blonde. He blinked back, one hand pressed lazily to his cheek and the other writing what was on the board as Mrs. Belle spoke. He stared at me for a split second before looking back to his notebook.

Why the hell was his seat so close to the exit anyway?

The bell rang, causing my classmates to slap notebooks closed and yank on backpack and purse zippers. Mrs. Belle, who liked teaching up 'til the very last minute—the, very, _last_, minute—decided she'd cover the rest tomorrow. "Read chapter seven. Don't forget the quiz on Friday!"

And we were already out the door. I had to hold back a sigh as I filed out with the others, bracing myself for the next minute. Thirty seconds, if I could help it.

I always put the things I didn't need in my locker after third period. Everyday. It was just easier that way. Then I would gather my books for my fourth and last class and head on my way. It only took a minute, since my locker was just two steps away from my psych class, pressed against the wall.

His locker was next to mine.

It was some curse, it had to be. At the beginning of the year it hadn't bothered me as much, but with each passing day and Winter Break drawing closer, I just prayed for the day he would get sick of it too and change lockers. Because I wasn't going to, and I was tired of looking at his face. He was stubborn, though. I used to love that about him.

Thus, our daily ritual commenced.

I was the last one out the door, and I took my sweet time heading for the locker. He was piling books inside his own, backpack hanging loosely from his shoulder. I was quick to make my way next to him and start spinning in my combination. Complete silence, even though there was the usual chatter of students in the background. He was stiff tossing in his notebook.

Then he changed the grand scheme of things and broke the silence. "Saw you at the party last night."

No comment.

"You…still taking pictures?"

He pissed me off… After the shit he pulled, after cutting it off with me…everything. And he wanted to make conversation with me? He really pissed me off.

I grabbed my Algebra II book and stuffed it into my bag, keeping my voice even. "Why do you care?"

"Just curious."

"Well don't be."

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't get the chance to. Someone called his name. He turned towards the voice, smiled when he saw its owner. His whole demeanor changed as he loosened up, pulled the approaching girl into a hug. "Xion, hey."

Xion, the pretty young thing he had been with at the party, had trailed along on the dance floor. I'd only glanced at her, though, so I hadn't gotten a close look at her pixie hair cut or her eyes that were eerily similar to his. What was with…blue eyes, huh? I eyed the Invader Zim T-shirt she sported, the matching Gir hat she was now slipping off her head as she leaned in to plant a kiss on the blonde's lips. "We're gonna be late to class."

"Alright, hold on."

He had looked like he wanted to say something else to me, but I wasn't giving him the time of day. I put away the last of my things, got what I needed, then slung my bag over my shoulder. I could feel his sideways gaze—he couldn't hide it that well—as I brushed past the two of them.

He really pissed me off.

* * *

><p>I decided to start calling her the Dragon Lady. Mainly because she was usually wearing some form of leather. A medium sleeved jacket, or a skirt that had a tendency to cling just below her naval. Occasionally I'd catch her in leather pants. Not the skimpy, Hoochie Mama kind—yes, that's what I called them—but they were close. No, but she usually had very nice clothes. Like something you'd see in a high end fashion catalogue.<p>

She had moved in three days after the party. I had hopped off the bus that day and headed for my apartment only to see a U-Haul truck parked close the curb in front of the B Building and two men carrying a sofa into one of the apartments on the first floor. A nice sofa, a U-shaped one. Or was it more like an L? That evening I was quick to rush up the stairs, toss my things in my room…and, for some reason, come back out with my camera in hand. I didn't take pictures, though, just watched as the men unloaded various pieces of furniture and wondered if it would all fit in that tiny space. Wondered why anyone in their right mind would want to move into _Rhine Wood_, the dump of all dumps. Especially if they had big money, which this woman obviously did.

That's when I'd seen her, the model, casually strolling towards the truck twirling a green lollipop in her fingers and offering drinks to the men. And she had looked up at me then, caught sight of my camera, and smiled that cat-like smile that had put me off the first day I'd met her.

I hadn't said anything to her, just lifted my camera and positioned her in the very center of the screen before taking a shot. Her grin had broadened when I finished. Then I left.

Two weeks passed since then. Whenever I saw her in the morning she always looked like she was heading somewhere in a hurry, and I made sure to take a picture of her outfit of the day. Save for weekends. I didn't see her on the weekends.

She didn't have a car, from what I could tell. I think she caught the city bus a good ten minutes before I left for school. She didn't have family, at least not in this area. If she had friends, they never dropped by. No boyfriends. Which was…a bit surprising. Considering how pretty she was. As far as I was concerned, she didn't have a name. She was nothing more than the lone Dragon Lady that lived downstairs. I had no relation with her whatsoever, nor did I wish to form one.

But.

"You're not a very good stalker, you know," the blonde said that Saturday as she was returning from Walmart. She had three bags in her hand, along with her black purse. The same "Every Inch a Woman" T-shirt from before, only with ripped gray jeans and leather boots. She had a baseball cap on, backwards and tilted ever so slightly downward.

I arched a silver brow at her, leaning on the second floor railing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She stopped just below me, looking up with those blue green eyes. "If you're trying to sneak pics of me, the least you could do is be discreet about it. But I guess you can't resist my feminine charm."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"Don't hate. Appreciate."

Weird. No, she was beyond weird. Something about her, though… "What's your name, anyway."

"Larxene Chavarria. But you can call me Larxene."

"I think Dragon Lady fits better."

And she blinked at that, must have found it amusing on some level, because the next thing I knew she was barking out a laugh. "Okay! Oh, jeez, I think I'll start going by that now. Or just Dragon. It can be my stage name."

Well, so long as she got a kick out of it.

She shot me one last smile before heading for her new home. I stayed put, listening to the soft thumps of her boots on the concrete. The footsteps stopped halfway, though, grew louder as she rounded back. She stopped and stared up at me again, her expression showing she meant business.

"Riku, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you think about my offer any?"

"What offer?"

"Take pictures of me." She said it like a demand rather than a question or request. The woman crossed her lightly tanned arms, plastic bags rustling against each other as she did so. "I need to work on my portfolio."

I didn't say anything for a moment. Swept hair from my eyes. "You'd choose some random kid to do it rather than hire a professional photographer?"

"You don't think you're any good?"

And that struck a nerve with me, made me I narrow my eyes and reply matter-of-factly, "I _know_ I'm good."

"Then do it. I'll pay you. Five bucks a shot. You give me a good ten, that's fifty right there."

She was serious about this.

"Well?"

I matched her gaze, trying to find any hint of joking or lying. She still meant business. This woman.

All I could do was nod, a thoughtful expression on my face. "I'll think about it."

That must have been good enough for her. Uncrossing her arms, she disappeared beneath the pass again, heading for her apartment.

* * *

><p>I went through a phase two years ago where I didn't talk to anyone and made sure no one tried to talk to me. It lasted about nine months. I was that guy in the back of the class that no one was comfortable around, that people avoided unless absolutely necessary. If I said anything to you, it was to ask a question relating to class. Or to insult you in some way that you wouldn't immediately pick up on. Yeah, I was <em>that<em> guy. That all started when Mom got really bad with her drinking, now that I thought about it. That's beside the point.

Thing is, back then I tried to stay as far away from home as possible when I could, usually catching a bus to some obscure shopping district, the library or hangout downtown. That's when I discovered Sonata Tea House. It's like a music bar and IHOP smushed together in one cozy shop. Only with tea.

You would walk in to see a Barnes n' Noble café setup. Round tables were spread evenly around the room. Booths lined the yellow tinted windows that took up the entire right wall, save for the entrance. Across from these booths was the bar, complete with plush golden stools and flowers posing perkily on the bar's surface. The cash register, the kitchen in the back. The smell of coffee and baked goods. There was a display case right by the entrance with cakes, cookies, and finger sandwiches resting on platters.

I remember the first time I had walked in, around closing time. It was going on seven and mostly everyone had cleared out for the night. The manager was wiping down tables, brown curls hanging over her shoulders as she did so. And she looked up at me the moment I walked in, smiled in a way that made me stop in the doorway, and politely said, "We close in five minutes."

I didn't have anywhere else to go—anywhere else I wanted to go—but I didn't want to leave either. She must have sensed that then, because she eyed me for a moment before asking, "Did you want me to get you something?"

"Um… What do you have?"

"Come sit."

That was the start of many visits. Aerith Gainsborough, whose name I'd learned only later, hadn't minded whipping up a cup of tea and serving me a cinnamon biscuit. She was the kind of person who would do that, who would listen to your troubles. She didn't mind. That's probably why I kept coming back to Sonata ever since. I would vent; she would lend the ear. I bought whatever was on the menu and she'd either cook it herself or have one of the employees in the back fix it.

In a way, Aerith was like a second mother. A proper mother…

I walked in with Kairi and Naminé on Sunday, amused by their Ooh's and Aah's as they glanced around the tea house. There weren't many customers around noon, just a young couple in one of the booths and a father and his two daughters laughing about something at one of the round tables.

Aerith was the one that greeted us, stepping out from behind the counter with a bright grin and her arms outstretched towards me. "Riku! Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks."

I hugged back, replying, "Eh, I've been busy."

"School?"

"When isn't it school?"

"And who are these pretty little ladies?"

That only caused Kairi and Naminé to giggle. I rolled my eyes as the boneheads introduced themselves, commenting on the shop, on Aerith's hair. They asked something about the pig cake from my picture, only to receive the disappointing news that someone had already bought the cake. But Aerith was more than willing to make them a new one, if they wanted to order it.

Before long we were seated at a booth, the girls side by side on one end and me on the other. Aerith handed us menus, placed smiley face coasters—gag me with a spoon—in front of each of us as she ran down the specials for the day.

"We serve breakfast all day, so feel free to glance at that section of the menu. What do you want to drink?"

We ordered our drinks but still needed a minute to think about what we wanted to eat. Aerith touched my shoulder. "Well, I'll send someone out with your drinks in a minute or two, and then you can order. And you can show me your new pictures later, too."

"You can look at them now, if you want," I said, digging in my bag—I always had some sort of bag with me—and handing my camera to her. She just beamed, taking it.

"I'll be quick with it, promise."

Then she headed for the kitchen with the camera in hand, skimming the photos.

Naminé gave me a sly smile. "Riku, I didn't know you were so good with the older ladies."

"Ew. She's like my mom."

"Ever heard of the Oedipus complex," Kairi asked.

I shook my head. "You two have sick minds."

"You know you love it."

We went back and forth as we looked through our menus. As promised, another server came out with our drinks not long after. He had the same lemony apron the other Sonata employees had to wear, a white long-sleeved shirt underneath. There was a tray in his hands with our drinks, which he set down before us on each of our coasters. And I looked up to thank him—

Wait.

Blue eyes. The face. His face.

He looked a little different. His hair, no longer straight, but chocolate spikes that reminded me so much of Ro… That guy. There was no makeup on his face now, none of the feminine dressings he had sported that night. He looked like a guy, just a regular guy. But his face. I don't forget a face.

"Are we ready to order?" he asked us cheerfully, looking to each one of us. He caught my gaze, his smile faltering just for a second. (Did I really look that shocked to see him?)

Kairi and Naminé didn't seem to notice how intently I was staring at him and started ordering. I didn't say anything, though, just continued to stare and wonder if I was just imagining things. Maybe this was a different guy, just someone who looked similar. But, no. I didn't forget faces…

"And what can I get you?"

He was looking at me expectantly, holding the serving tray in both hands in front of him. Trying to look polite and professional, but obviously put off by the way I was eyeballing him. His name tag read **'Sora**.**'** Seemed to fit. I'd have to remember that name.

I cleared my throat, glanced down at the menu again. "Uh, yeah. I'll just have the sampler."

"Okay. Your order will be right out."

And he left with that, heading for kitchen to repeat our orders. I watched after him, long enough for Kairi to be concerned.

"Riku, you okay?"

"…Yeah."

Damn it.

I _still_ hadn't taken a picture.


	4. Something More

**Sora; Sometimes Words Get in the Way  
><strong>

I threw it out, the outfit he had bought me. Not right away, but before I went to bed. When I got home that night, I didn't do much of anything for a while. I remember coming home to a silent house—Ma still had an hour to go before her shift ended—and picking up Sadie when she padded up to me. I remember carrying the feline up the stairs and pacing around my room with her in my arms for a good ten minutes, fighting the urge to scream or kick something. Or to throw the poor cat across the room.

I remember setting her down after those ten minutes, heading for the bathroom and taking off my makeup. Took out the earrings hidden beneath the wig before taking that off too. I took off the skirt, the blouse, pulled off my boots and set them in the corner of the room. Then I took a long shower. Eyes closed with water running down my face. I must have been in there a long time, because later I heard Roxas knocking roughly on the door and warning me not to take too damn long.

I remember climbing out of the shower and wrapping myself in a towel after that, collecting my clothes and dumping them in the little trashcan by the toilet. Boots and earrings too. Didn't want to look at any of it. I tied the bag in a tight knot, yanked it from the trashcan. Then I left the bathroom, still wrapped up, with the bag in one hand and my wig in the other. Rox had been standing near the doorway with his pajamas, towel, and a washcloth in hand. He yawned, scratching the back of his head. "Took you long enough."

Then he caught a good look at my face and eyed me curiously. "What's wrong?"

_What isn't?_

I wanted to say it. Didn't. Too tired. So I didn't say anything and just went back to my room. Tossed the bag and wig next to my desk. Put on my pajamas. I pet Sadie some more until the Himalayan got bored and sauntered her way into the hallway, black tipped tail twitching in the air.

I remember sitting on my bed for a bit, remember Ma coming home and poking her head in to make sure Rox and I both had made it home okay. She had frowned. "You okay?" To which I gave a strained smile and a nod, causing the woman to eye me a little longer. Then she wished me goodnight and slipped back out.

I remember getting back up, grabbing the trash bag, and making my way downstairs. I remember tossing that bag in the trashcan in the kitchen, tying up the larger bag and carrying it outside to the dumpster on the curb. (They picked up the neighborhood's trash every Friday, so it would be empty by tomorrow.) I remember turning away from the dumpster, not giving a second thought to the outfit that now rested underneath layers of waste, and heading back into the house.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Took it upstairs with me. Took a long drink before setting it on my desk. I picked up my wig, laying forgotten on the floor, and carefully replaced it within my trunk. And with all of that done, I shut my door and crawled in bed face first. I wrapped both arms around my pillow and pressed my nose into the fabric, slipping my eyes closed.

I pressed that pillow to my face and cried as quietly as I could.

* * *

><p>"Can you believe they're letting us out on the twentieth? Why are they waiting so late?"<p>

"Rox's school gets out the day before Christmas Eve, so I really don't think it's _that_ late. Plus—" I looked over my shoulder at Selphie, handing her the worksheet Mr. Bauman had just passed out. "—that's, like, a month away."

"Three weeks and four days," the brunette corrected me as she scribbled her name on the sheet and started on the equations. She looked back up at me with an eager smile. "Two weeks and three days if you don't count weekends."

"You're really excited about this, aren't you?"

"Honey bunch, I've been ready for Winter Break since the beginning of the school year."

Amen to that. Even though it would only last twelve days, which was still a decent amount of time, I was looking forward to the break too. Classes always seemed to drag more the closer and closer it became, especially with all the projects and midterm work teachers loaded on us. Like right now. All Mr. Bauman really did this past week was lecture, fill out example after example on the overhead, and then dump practice worksheets on us at the end of each class. He had no problem letting us work in pairs or chat quietly as we did so, but still. This algebra exam was gonna be a pain…

"So, do you have any plans for the break?"

I turned sideways in my seat with my worksheet on my notebook and my pencil resting loosely in my fingers. I tried glancing at the girl's paper, examining the formula she was working out. "Not really. Grams is gonna spend the break with us, then we'll have a small New Year's party. But nothing, other than that."

"We should totally do something while we're out."

"Like?"

"Skiing!"

"Miss Tilmitt." The two of us looked back to Mr. Bauman's desk, took in his warning gaze. He adjusted his glasses before tapping a paper in front of him with the end of his pencil. "Inside voice."

Selphie grinned sheepishly, ear tips growing pink. "Oops. Sorry."

I couldn't keep from laughing, earning a frumpy stare from the brunette. The way she scrunched up her nose when she looked upset made her look like a mouse—which just made me laugh harder.

Mr. Bauman cleared his throat, loudly enough for the rest of the chatter in the classroom to quiet down considerably. I had to press a hand to my mouth, still grinning. Only when my classmates went on talking with one another did I say to Selphie, "I don't know how to ski."

"Neither do I, but Tidus _really_ wants me to go with him."

"Aw, are you two all lovey-dovey now?"

"What of it?" She made her mousey face again, this time at a problem on her paper. "Leon might come too. I'm not sure. And maybe Olette."

"Not Hayner or Pence?"

"Hayner's going to Boston to visit family over the break, and Pence has family coming here to visit." She gave me a knowing stare, fighting back a smirk. "You know how crazy his family is. No way his parents are going to let him come with us."

"It's just one day, though."

"It's his mom. She's like my aunt, all about 'Getting the family together for the holidays! Families should be together for the holidays!' and all that crap."

That I could understand. But still. I'd take one day of skiing over dealing with crazy family any day. It made me think back on when my brother and I were younger and we were always spending the night at some aunt or uncle's house whenever Christmas rolled around. We'd show up on Christmas Eve while Ma and Dad carted in presents for the rest of the family. Then the next day Rox, our cousins, and I would get up at the crack of dawn and crowd around the tree. Flip out whenever we saw a present labeled "From Santa," then attack the gift wrap.

We stopped doing that so long ago, it felt… I think by the time Rox and I had turned eleven. Our family just kind of started spreading out. The only person we still lived close to was Grams.

I sighed, turning my attention back to my worksheet long enough to fill out six of the thirty problems. Stopped and sneaked a peak at Selphie's paper again. The girl caught me staring and was quick to cover her work, whispering, "Cheater!"

Cheater…

Why was Axel the first to pop to mind when I heard that word? All day I had pushed the red head out of my mind. All day I thought of anything but the party from last night. And I had been doing fine, too, was functioning fine. No stress, no sweat. And now…

Cheater.

"Sora?" I met Selphie's now concerned gaze, silent. She knit her brows together. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Your face just got really…weird for a minute."

I didn't say anything for a moment, looked back to my paper. I fought back the images flitting through my head. The outfit, the lights, the alley. His car. His hands, his body. His eyes. Then I pushed them back down, as if they had never existed in the first place. I would get over it. I had to. I wondered if I could tell Selphie about it. But that would require me to tell her everything else. About the clothes, the wig, the makeup. Or maybe it wouldn't. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. No one else needed to know. Finally, I gave an answer.

"I'm fine."

* * *

><p>The next day—the weekend, thank God—Ma had called us down for a "family meeting." We had them once in a blue moon for whatever reason Ma deemed worthy to fret over. Sometimes it would be legit; the last time we had done so, we had sat down in the living room and talked seriously for three hours about whether or not we thought putting Grams in a nursing home would be a good idea in the near future. (Heck. No. That's all I had to say about that.) Sometimes it was over simple things that weren't really worth the stress, like how we should split up the chores around the house.<p>

That Saturday morning, it was about getting off our lazy butts and getting part-time jobs. Specifically me. She didn't say that outright, but I could tell. She wanted me to be busy after school, to have less time on my hands to do what I wanted. She never caught me in the act, but I knew she knew. Yeah, she definitely knew.

Ma dropped a pile of various job applications on the coffee table, seating herself between Rox and me on the living room couch. Obviously it had been her first priority of the day, because she was wearing nothing but her pink bathrobe and matching flip flops. She smelled like baby lotion and perfume. What was the scent? Something really flowery and strong, but I probably wouldn't mind wearing it sometime if I could get my hands on it…

"The school year will end pretty soon," the woman announced, shuffling through the applications. Four of each, I noticed. Because Ma was always prepared and had to have backups of everything. Rox and I just watched wordlessly as she split them into two even piles.

"That's not for, like, six months," Roxas said, to which Ma shook her head. She handed the blonde his stack.

"Those six months will breeze by before you know it. And neither of you are sitting around the house all summer."

"Like we usually do," I asked, taking my stack and letting out a yawn.

"Smart boy."

_Don't call me that…_ I leafed through the papers, examining the places she had picked out. Barnes n' Noble near the shopping district, the Target and Walmart in the same area. Harris Teeter, Giant, Food Lion, even a few shops in the mall that was just a bus ride away. Couldn't say any of them appealed to me, but a job was a job, right?

Rox didn't quite feel the same. "Why even bother with these places anyway? We still have school."

"That's why it's called a part-time job. You work after school until the year ends, then you work full-time until summer's over with."

"I have practice after school."

"Then find weekend work."

"And the point of this is?"

"Starting next week you aren't getting allowance anymore. You want money, you work for it." She said it matter-of-factly, patting her lap then rising to her feet to head for the kitchen. "I want you both to have applied to at least one place by the end of the week."

And that concluded the family meeting, which really wasn't much of one, considering Ma had dictated the whole thing. That's how most things went in our house, though.

So Roxas and I ended up going out job hunting the next day. Or, more really, we rode the bus together to a certain point before we walked off our separate ways. If we happened to cross paths while we were out—oh well, then.

There was something utterly terrifying about applying for a job, at least for me. I didn't have any particular skills that stood out. Well, cooking. Sort of. Maybe cooking, but then I didn't like the idea of having to handle people's food. Not to mention a gripping feeling of nervousness would wash over me whenever I even _thought_ about the word interview. I'd never worked before, and even though Ma assured me that I would find something regardless of the fact it didn't make me feel any more confident.

You can imagine how uncomfortable I was walking from store to store, wandering around inside for a bit before finding someone to turn in my (lackluster) applications to. For the places Ma hadn't picked out beforehand, I went in and asked if they were hiring. Places like Dress Barn or the Macy's in the mall. Many of them didn't have openings, but they'd hold applications on file. Which wasn't really good enough, but what can you do? I figured, if I couldn't find anything today I'd try again tomorrow. As noon rolled around I'd decided to take a break for the day and get something to eat. Try something new just to spice things up.

And that's actually how I came across Sonata.

It was a tea house about thirty minutes away from our neighborhood by car, maybe shorter than that, since I had taken one of the busier buses. I had walked in with an empty folder in hand—my applications had been inside, but no more. Thank God!—glancing around at the tiny shop that smelled strongly of caffeine and cinnamon. There was an insane amount of yellow and green in here. The green display case with baked goods right by the door. The yellow tinted windows, the milky yellow round tables and booths spread throughout the shop, the green speckled bar with a cash register and flowers resting on top. There was a wooden door behind that bar, reading **'Employees Only'** and yet I saw no employees. Or anyone, for that matter. As bright and inviting as it looked, it was empty.

That immediately put me off, but I felt no need to leave. How can I put it? There was an atmosphere inside this cozy building that made me want to sit a while and contemplate life over a cup of tea. Just hang out, just think and relax.

"Oh! I didn't hear you come in. Can I help you, sir?"

I looked up at the voice only to see a young woman coming out from the back, carrying an opened box and setting it on the bar with a dull thud. She was wearing an apron, the same sunshine yellow as everything else, with "Sonata Tea House" printed on the front and a white shirt underneath. Her curly brown hair fell so nicely over her shoulders and down her back in a high ponytail that I couldn't keep myself from wanting to pull on those curls just to see them bounce back.

The green of her eyes was breathtaking. And the way she was smiling at me. I felt calm then, not the least bit worried about asking for work or bothered by the fact that she had called me sir. (I _loathed_ being called a sir, even if it was out of politeness.)

I returned the woman's smile. "Um, I'm Sora Sabota and I was wondering if you were hiring? Part-time, though."

"What time are you free?"

"After three on weekdays, and pretty much any time on the weekend."

"Then you can start tomorrow. We open at nine, close around seven—"

"W-wait. Seriously?"

She laughed at that, pushing the box aside before leaning forward on the bar with her arms crossed and an amused expression on her face. "Yeah. I'm short on employees anyway, and the two I have mostly show up in the morning."

"But… I mean, I just kinda walked in. You don't want to think about it or anything?"

"Nope." She said it so brightly, so certainly. Then she winked at me, causing me to blink in confusion. "You look legit."

Wow. Well, I guess that took away the pressure of an interview, but wow. I didn't know quite what to say to her for a while, and I was quiet for so long that she started laughing again. Eventually I found my voice. "Well, thank you! Miss…"

"Gainsborough. Or Aerith, whichever works for you."

"I'll stick with Ms. Gainsborough." I found it strange to call adults by their first name.

"Alrighty then, Sora. So, should I show you some of the ropes now, or do you want to save that for tomorrow?"

"I have time."

She gave me the tour after that, though there wasn't a whole lot to look at. She took me to the kitchen, told me how to work the custom made oven, showed me how some of the baked goods were made. She even had a three inch binder filled with recipes tucked away on a bookshelf near the door. There were two griddle-like stoves, one large sink and a trashcan. They had one of those walk in freezers where, if you were unlucky enough to get locked in, you'd probably freeze to death. There was a backdoor leading into an alleyway—"We throw the trash out here. Try not to hang out here too long. The dumpsters stink up the place pretty bad." She showed me how to work the cash register, how to unlock and stock up the display case in case customers wanted to try something inside.

In about an hour, Ms. Gainsborough gave me a rundown of how the entire shop worked. She was patient with my questions, pretty laid back to be honest. I could imagine working here every day, actually enjoying it. Then she treated me to a pastry with some sort of cherry filling and a glass of milk. We talked some more, about life. Just got to know each other.

And when all was said and done, I thanked the bubbly woman with a gracious smile and left feeling much lighter than I had in days.

* * *

><p>I went straight to Sonata after school the following Monday. I had ridden the bus home just to dump my things in my room, brush my teeth and check my face in the mirror, left a note for Rox and Ma, and then caught a bus out in town. Ms. Gainsborough was waiting for me with the same smile. There were a few customers by the time I got there, so she was quick to hand me a uniform—"The apron should fit. I'm not sure about shirt though. If not, just wear the one you have on now until we get one that fits." Then I was put in charge of the register, which was actually not as complex a responsibility as I had assumed it would be.<p>

For much of that day—no, for much of that week, I simply tended to the register, occasionally helped out in the kitchen, and cleaned up. Ms. Gainsborough would always let me off an hour early, saying she didn't want to keep me too late. That I should focus on school work as well. For much of that week, the tea house served as a pleasant distraction from…everything, really. Selphie, Tidus, Pence, and Olette had dropped by on Friday. Just to see what it was like, just to support me. It was nice.

Did I have time to dress up any more? Not really. Not unless I did it late at night, locked in my room. Did that bother me? A little…but not as much as I had thought it would.

Which was probably what Ma had wanted in the first place. I tried not to think about it too much.

Now, Saturdays and Sundays were meant to be my free days. I truly liked working there, though, liked working with Ms. Gainsborough and talking with her and one of the other employees that didn't quite work a regular schedule. (Barnes was his name. He was an older fella, but he knew his way around the kitchen.) So I opted to come in on Sunday since it was usually just Ms. Gainsborough. She had no problem with that.

It was a slow day, just like last Sunday when I had first walked into the shop. We only had five customers, a young couple seated at one of the booths and making kissy faces at each other. (I couldn't help but laugh, thinking it was cute.) Then there was an older gentlemen joking around with his two daughters. I was looking at their shoes, wedged heels, wondering where they had gone to buy them. Wondering, if I got a pair for myself, when and where I would wear them. Then Ms. Gainsborough had come out from the kitchen, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Sora, could you be a dear and take out the trash."

"Yes ma'am."

That must have been when he showed up, right when I disappeared into the kitchen. It hadn't taken too long for me to drag the trash bag out to the dumpster, but by the time I made it back we had three other customers sitting at one of the booths. They looked to be my age. Talking casually with each other. Two girls. They were pretty, could be twins if it weren't for their different hair colors. One blonde, one with reddish brown hair. Then again, Rox and I had different hair colors ourselves. And a guy. Striking silver hair, his bangs falling in his face.

_Cute_, was the first thing that popped in my head when I looked at him from behind the bar. _He's cute_.

Ms. Gainsborough walked up to me, a camera in her hand. (Where had she gotten that?) She stopped skimming through the pictures on it long enough to look up at me—something about her face seemed happier than it had been a minute ago. "We have some people ready to order. Can you bring them their drinks? Two milks, one orange juice."

"Sure."

And as she disappeared to the back, still skimming through those pictures, I went to fetch the drinks. Loaded them onto one of the small serving trays and brought it out to the newcomers with a greeting painted on my face. I set their drinks in front of them before asking, "Are we ready to order?"

And I looked to each of them, ready to make mental notes of what they wanted—because Ms. Gainsborough didn't do the whole notepad thing that other restaurants did—but I felt my smile falter for a second when I met the silver haired stranger's gaze.

His eyes. Sea green. They were watching me…a little too carefully. Was that recognition I saw on his face? Had we met before? Where…? His friends were already placing their orders, and I turned my attention to them instead, tried to ignore the stare that was burning into my skin. Then, when they had finished, I looked back at him. Why was I getting so nervous all of a sudden?

"And what can I get you?"

I held the serving tray out in front of me, gripped it firmly to steady my fingers which were shaking just the slightest bit. Waiting for a response. The boy seemed a little out of it, snapping out of his thoughts long enough to answer. "Uh, yeah. I'll just have the sampler."

"Okay. Your order will be right out."

I turned and left then, shaken for some reason I didn't understand. I could still feel his eyes on my back as I headed into the kitchen, could still see his gaze in my head as I relayed the orders to Ms. Gainsborough who was still flipping through pictures.

That green eyed stranger worried me.

* * *

><p>Two weeks and two days later we got out for Winter Break. Well, I did. Poor Roxas still had three days left to go. So I came home that Tuesday, done with school and done with work, silently celebrating the fact that I was officially free. I felt like trying out a homemade honey biscuit recipe Ms. Gainsborough had let me borrow. There was a bounce to my step, and I found myself humming as I headed straight for the kitchen, slipping off my apron—<p>

Then I stopped in the doorway when I caught sight of Axel and Roxas sitting at the table.

They had been talking before I walked up. Something amusing, since Rox was laughing and Axel was grinning. Then they both looked up at me, a little surprised, and fell silent. Rox still looked amused by whatever it was his friend had said. But the red head's grin faltered. Why was he here? I stared into his emerald eyes briefly before turning to leave.

Later. I'd cook later…

"Hey."

It was Roxas' voice that stopped me in my tracks. In a matter of seconds I had a mental debate with myself about whether or not I should keep walking or listen to what he had to say. With a sigh I stopped long enough to look back at him. "What?"

"Grams called. She'll be over a little later tonight, so she's gonna need help with her bags."

"Okay."

I meant to leave it at that. I didn't want to be in the same room with them right now, didn't want to have Axel staring at me in that calm, almost friendly way the entire time. I wanted to leave. Perhaps he could tell, because he was quick to stop me with a call. "So you're just gonna run off without saying hi?"

_Don't talk to me._ "I have homework."

"I thought you were out for the break?"

_Stop talking to me._ "It's work for the break."

"Where've you been hiding all day?"

_PLEASE stop talking to me. _"My job."

Why was he pressing this? Could he not tell I was annoyed? Was it not obvious, written on my face?

He turned to the blonde for a moment, a sly smile on his lips as he poked fun. "See, Rox. Sora's got a job."

To which my brother replied, "Shut up. I'm still looking."

"Didn't you say your mom gave you 'til last week."

"You're jobless too, you butt munch."

For a third time I turned to leave—only to be stopped again by the red head's voice. Heat rushed to my face, out of anger, annoyance. I'm sure he knew this, but he kept talking all the same. "Where do you work now, anyway?"

"Don't worry about it." And I snapped. Subtly, quietly, but I snapped. The Devil flew into me and before I could help it, I met his gaze once more and demanded, "Why are you over here anyway?"

And now he was getting it. Now I could see his features harden the slightest bit. No more trying to be polite. No more trying to pretend that night at the party hadn't happened. "I came to talk to Rox. We haven't seen each other in a while—"

"So you two are speaking again? Now you suddenly take an interest in each other?"

"Whoa." Roxas rose from his seat, eyes narrowed and hands pressed to the table. The look on his face told me that he didn't know, still didn't know. That he wasn't sure what to make of the tension, the way I was acting. He was looking into my face, trying to find answers I wouldn't give. "Why the hell are you so snippy today?"

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. What's your problem?"

My problem. It was always _my_ problem. My fault. _Why don't you ask him, since you're both so buddy-buddy now. Why don't you ask your best effin' friend?_

The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue. I spun around to face them, fully, gripping my apron in one hand and the door frame in the other. So hard that my fingertips were growing red, redder than my face. The words were _right there_. I wanted to spill everything right then, to see the kind of face Roxas would make. The face _he_ would make.

My brother was still eyeballing me expectantly, still confused, still annoyed. I glanced over at Axel once more, saw the look on his face. The scowl, the way his thin brows knit together in a V shape. The expression he wore that silently spoke to me in a way that I no longer wanted to speak to him with.

_Don't tell…_

I frowned, turning to leave with a feeling of defeat welling up in my heart. I turned to leave and said over my shoulder, "Nothing."

* * *

><p>The silver haired stranger. He came to Sonata often enough to be considered a close friend of Ms. Gainsborough. I saw the way they interacted whenever they were together, the way Ms. Gainsborough's face lit up whenever he was around and how she always pulled him into a tight embrace as if she hadn't seen him in years. He even called her by her first name, so casually as if he was talking to someone else his age.<p>

Over the next six days of my break he came in every day, on the dot, at noon. It was always when Ms. Gainsborough was out for lunch and I was put in charge while she was gone. (Which wasn't a problem, since I started getting the hang of running the shop.) He would come in, camera in hand, glance around at the few people that were in during that hour, and would take a seat in one of the booths to wait for thirty minutes until Ms. Gainsborough came back.

And he took pictures.

I noticed that right away about him, whenever I was hanging around the bar. He always took pictures of things around the room, of people across the room in other booths or tables. When they weren't looking. And he did it with such a look on his face, something so… Calm. At ease. Like everything was right in his world. The way he held his camera, I could tell he loved it.

Who was this boy?

His habit fascinated me. And annoyed me as well. The only reason why was because, when I wasn't looking he would snap pictures of me. When my back was turned, or when I was talking with a customer at the register. Every day. I knew this because, after Ms. Gainsborough returned from her lunch breaks, she would always ask for his camera and skim through his pictures. She would carry it into the kitchen, admiring and examining, before she started cooking him something to eat. (She was always the one to cook for him.) She would show it to me, too, because I was curious and asked to see.

And I saw me.

I confronted him about it today, Monday. Ms. Gainsborough wouldn't be back from lunch for another ten minutes, so I walked up to his table and stood beside him curiously. "Why do you do that?"

He blinked, a little put off by the abruptness of the question. "Do what?"

"Take pictures of me when I'm not looking."

Then he realized, shifting in his seat and messing with the gray messenger bag by his side. There was a slyness about him now, a slight smirk on his lips. A knowing smirk. "Am I, now?"

"I've seen them, you know. Whenever Ms. Gainsborough is looking through them, she shows me sometimes. You have a lot of me."

"Don't flatter yourself."

What was with this guy? Did he make it a habit to be rude? To stare and stare and then be rude? "Are you stalking me?"

"Why does everyone I take a picture of ask me that," he muttered, crossing his arms and resting his head on top. Silvery, almost white hair fell like a curtain around his face, in front of his eyes. (That never bothered him?) I fought the urge to reach out and touch it, out of curiosity. He seemed a little tired today.

I shrugged, leaning on the table with my hands. "Maybe because you do it a lot."

He thought about that. Seemed to agree. He looked up at me with those milky green eyes, captivating eyes that reminded me almost—almost—of Axel. "I take pictures of things I find interesting."

"And…you find me interesting?"

"More or less, sure."

Which really wasn't an answer, but I figured that was all I was going to get from him. This guy was strange. What was his name? I'd only ever heard Ms. Gainsborough mention it once. I think…Riku? I was curious but hesitant to ask him.

I ended up taking a seat across from him instead, watching as he momentarily sat up to pull his camera from his bag. "So do you take pictures of other stuff, or just people?"

He switched the device on, stared absently at the screen. "Mostly people."

"That's pretty ironic."

"Why?"

"I mean, you don't seem like a people person." And when he arched a brow me and frowned, I regretted the words. I waved a hand at him, shaking my head. "Um, not that that's a bad thing! It's just, you come here alone most of the time. I've only seen you once or twice with those two girls from before, but you don't really talk to anyone else. You might have more friends I just haven't seen—"

"No. Just the two," he corrected, holding up two fingers. "Then there's Aerith."

Wait. What? "Really?"

"I don't see why that should be a problem. If you can find just two or three—even one—people that you can trust and call a close friend, then there shouldn't be a reason to have more. I don't like dealing with people. Like I said, I just like take pictures of them."

"But… It doesn't hurt to have more, you know." It was strange to hear such words, completely strange to me. It probably would have been worse had he said he didn't have any friends at all, but…seriously, just two? He didn't talk to anyone, didn't have any others he could get together with? It was… Well, I found it kind of sad. Maybe I was overreacting. But still.

As if reading my mind, he shot me another playful smile and said, "It doesn't hurt to have just the few."

I didn't get it. I really didn't. He laughed at the expression on my face. "You look surprised."

"It's just different, is all."

"Takes different to know different."

And the way he said it… Something inside of me suddenly felt unsettled, uncomfortable. Something unspoken went between us as he gave me a look. Like he knew something I didn't. Or maybe… I felt my face heat up just a bit, and at that moment I felt that there was something very dangerous about this guy. Something I didn't like at all.

I cleared my throat, rose from my seat and stepped an inch away from the table. "Um… So, did you want anything to eat or drink while you waited?"

The look in his eyes didn't go away; but whatever it was he was thinking about, hinting at, wasn't mentioned. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"Okay. I'll be in the back if you need me." And I left then, trying to sort my thoughts, my feelings.

This guy was something else.


	5. Zero

**Riku; My Reality is Something Weird  
><strong>

What crack pot thought it was a good idea to let us out for Winter Break the day _before_ Christmas Eve? That was just torture. But at least it came quickly. We'd be back right after New Year's, so we had the time to bask in the warmth of freedom.

It was always painfully cold during this time of the year, but we rarely got snow. So I was pleasantly surprised when, the moment I walked out of the school building on the day of our release, crystalline flakes drifted onto my face. They didn't quite stick to the streets, the sidewalks, the student parking lot; but just the sight of them was enough to cause other students to let out exclamations as they darted from the building.

I remember standing right in front of my bus for a moment, head tilted back and eyes closed, before climbing onboard and bracing myself for the next nine days.

* * *

><p>"Oh, baby, they're perfect! Where'd you get them?"<p>

"Macy's. They were having a sale."

"I love them!"

I had to admit, as often as she got on my very last nerve, as much as I wished she wasn't the kind of person she was today—I really did love my mother. Especially when her face lit up, like now, making her seem even more child-like than before. Her aquamarine eyes were locked on the silver earrings I had given her for Christmas. They were like little diamonds—not real ones, but pretty close—that hugged her ears snuggly as she put them on. I'd have to get a picture of her later, maybe wearing an outfit they matched with.

I leaned back into the couch, closer to the woman, examining my own wrapped present that rested neatly in my lap. It was heavy. A large box covered in Frosty the Snowman wrapping paper and topped with a sticker that read, "To: Ri-Ri."

Oh, this would be good.

The way Mom had beamed at me earlier when she'd opened her present was nothing compared to how she was looking at me now. She bounced in her seat, her smile threatening to split her face in two. "Open it, already!"

Wordlessly I obliged, curious about what had her so exited. Then I froze when all the wrapping was off and dumped to the floor, eyes fixed on the present she had gotten me.

Oh. This was _definitely_ good.

I felt my jaw drop as I eyed the box, let my fingers run over the bolded letters printed on top. _Samsung GX-10… _ A digital camera. A professional digital camera.

The kind of camera that cost eight hundred dollars. Maybe more, depending on where you went.

The sting of tears was in my eyes. "Oh my God…"

"You like it?"

"M-Mo… Oh my God."

_Where'd you get the money? Better yet, why spend this kind of cash on me? I didn't have a whole lot for you, so why, huh? Oh my God…_

All of these thoughts came to mind, but I couldn't articulate them. Hell, I couldn't speak anymore. I just shook my head at the box, at the picture of the sleek black camera on top. I felt something well up in my heart as tears started sliding down my face. And I just shook my head and bit my bottom lip.

Mom laughed and wrapped her arms around me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Ri-Ri."

"I love you, Mom."

"Love you too."

* * *

><p>Let me back track a bit. To that day at Sonata, that day I saw Sora for the second time.<p>

At first I had decided to stay away from the tea house. I wouldn't say it was out of shock, or anything. I guess… I didn't know what to make of the situation. After that chance encounter I had while with Kairi and Naminé, I figured it was a one time thing and I shouldn't think about it any further. I figured it was best to shake that brunette and his gorgeous eyes and his feminine outfit, his whole _body_ out of my head because I wasn't going to see it again.

Even if I wanted to.

So I stayed away from Sonata because I didn't like dealing with things I didn't understand. I didn't like thinking about things I didn't understand…yet I ended up going back. Not right away. I waited a little over a week, just three days before we had got out for Winter Break, before going back by myself. I had skipped school two of those days, and just one class on the third—no point in going, considering I was passing all my classes anyway. Plus we had the break. Mom didn't seem to care one way or another, so long as I was out of the house during the morning. (She was letting the Greg stay over more and more lately…)

Every day at noon, I went to the tea house. Aerith was always on her lunch break around that time, so Sora would be on his own, save for the other customers. He'd offer to take my order the moment I walked through the door and seated myself, which I always refused. I wanted to wait until Aerith got back, I'd tell him, since she usually took my orders. And he was fine with that. It seemed like a reasonable excuse for my being there.

I mean, think about it. How would you react if someone told you that the only reason they bothered dropping by your job was to watch you?

For about a week I made it my personal mission to take pictures of that beautiful boy. Always when he wasn't looking, when he had his back turned or when he was tending to other customers. I would just sit at a booth, snapping pictures of the people in the shop—but mostly him. Then, when thirty minutes had come and gone, Aerith would come back from her lunch break and greet me, hug me, sift through my photos. Then she'd cook me something. We'd chat for a bit. And I would leave, only to come back the next day.

Each and every day I would look through the pictures I had taken of Sora. Wonder about that night. Wonder, still, how that face could look so _right_ as both a boy and as a girl.

I wanted a picture of him as a girl. There was the image in my head, but that was just a memory.

Memories fade. I don't care what people say; no memory was one hundred percent accurate. No memory could capture and hold every single detail perfectly like a photo could.

I needed a picture… For now, though, I would just have to settle with watching from afar. I'm sure, at some point, Sora realized that I was aiming my camera (the old one, the Kodak) his way. It was the day after Christmas that he finally changed the scheme of things and confronted me about it. He walked up to my table with what I assumed could be a determined look in his eye. He stood beside the table and eyed me curiously. "Why do you do that?"

I blinked, unsure what he was talking about at first. "Do what?"

"Take pictures of me when I'm not looking."

Ah. And of course that was what he was talking about. I mean, I had never really been discreet about it. Sure, I always made sure he wasn't paying attention to me, but it wasn't like my little…"habit" wasn't obvious. So I smiled then—maybe it was more of a smirk—shifting in my seat and messing with my bag. "Am I, now?"

"I've seen them, you know. Whenever Ms. Gainsborough is looking through them, she shows me sometimes. You have a lot of me."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Are you stalking me?"

"Why does everyone I take a picture of ask me that," I muttered, crossing my arms and resting my head on top. Instantly the Dragon Lady came to mind. Those eyes. I still hadn't really accepted her offer. Or rejected it, either… Was that the assumption everyone came to, that I was a pervert stalker? As creepy as I could be, a stalker I was not.

From the corner of my eye I saw Sora shrug, leaning on the table with his hands. "Maybe because you do it a lot."

Huh. Touché. I looked up at him, amusement washing over me. "I take pictures of things I find interesting."

"And…you find me interesting?" He sounded so adorably suspicious. Was there something wrong with me? Was it wrong that I was enjoying how uncomfortable he was with this whole conversation? Was it weird that I was so fascinated in him?

"More or less, sure."

Which really didn't answer his question, but he didn't say anything else for a moment. His face was a question mark. An open book. It was clear that he didn't know what to make of me. To be quite honest—I still didn't know what to make of him either.

If only he knew… What? What would happen if he knew why I was here? He'd probably turn tomato red, probably have a heart attack. Probably run away and never turn back.

The brunette ended up taking a seat across from me, and I took that moment to sit up and reach into my messenger bag. Pulled out my old camera because I didn't want to have to look directly into his eyes—as wide and open and mesmerizing as they were. I pressed the on button, stared at the screen absently.

"So do you take pictures of other stuff, or just people?"

I wanted to say that it was really none of his business. Unless you were close to me, it really wasn't your business. But I didn't. Told him the truth, for some reason. "Mostly people."

"That's pretty ironic."

"Why?"

"I mean, you don't seem like a people person." Oh? I arched a brow at that, frowning, and that just caused him to widen those pretty eyes of his and wave his hand at me. He shook his head. "Um, not that that's a bad thing! It's just, you come here alone most of the time. I've only seen you once or twice with those two girls from before, but you don't really talk to anyone else. You might have more friends I just haven't seen—"

_How much thought have you put into this?_ I interrupted him, holding up two fingers as I replied, "No. Just the two. Then there's Aerith."

"Really?"

"I don't see why that should be a problem. If you can find just two or three—even one—people that you can trust and call a close friend, then there shouldn't be a reason to have more. I don't like dealing with people. Like I said, I just take pictures of them."

"But… It doesn't hurt to have more, you know."

It was weird… Having this talk with him. How easily I opened up to him, how easily these words were coming out. It was like another person was speaking for me—no. How do I put it? Like a part of me buried deep was starting to surface. It might have been because of how genuinely curious Sora seemed to be, how upset he looked by my answers. Like it was a sad thing that I only had a couple of friends. It wasn't like that was a problem for me. I had meant what I said. People could drag you down.

Just three people to trust were enough for me. And even then, I didn't trust them completely.

I couldn't help but grin amusedly at the expression on the brunette's tanned face. "It doesn't hurt to have just the few."

And when he grew even more disturbed by that answer, I laughed. "You look surprised."

"It's just different, is all."

"Takes different to know different."

And the way I said it… It hadn't slipped out on accident; it had been intentional. The part of me that was opening up so easily to him, the part that was allowing me to speak with him so casually like this wanted him to pick up on the tone in my voice. I eyed him carefully, hoping—maybe—he had a vague idea what I was hinting at.

How different he was, indeed.

And he blushed, suddenly more uncomfortable than he had been seconds ago. He cleared his throat, rose from his seat, stepped an inch away from the table. "Um… So, did you want anything to eat or drink while you waited?"

I never took my eyes off of his face. Maybe I should have mentioned it, the party. That night… Just to see how he'd react. "No, thanks. I'm good."

"Okay. I'll be in the back if you need me."

And the moment passed. He turned and left, still red in the face.

I lifted my camera and snapped a picture of his retreating figure.

* * *

><p>Two days since Christmas passed. One day since my most recent conversation with Sora. Six days until I would be thrown back into the tide of lectures, class assignments and homework. I made sure to keep close count, even got to ticking off days on my calendar. Simply because I was relishing every moment I had free. Appreciating the time I had to use my new camera and its advanced features. Loving it. <em>God<em>, I loved Mom.

More snow had fallen since, blanketing the washed out streets and parking lot around Rhine Wood in white. It was now officially bad enough for men in poofy coats to come out to shovel the roads every morning and sprinkle salt as they did so. There were alerts out for those driving to be careful as they traveled; ice.

I found myself wearing one of Mom's ex's winter coats—she had a habit of keeping old clothes—that was slightly oversized but kept me warm all the same. A black one. That, and a long sleeved black sweater shirt underneath, because it was colder than I didn't know what outside. My breaths came out as little clouds of mist, fading into the breezy air. The few trees that littered the apartment complex were beautifully naked.

It was amazing.

I was busy taking pictures of them that evening. Too busy being fascinated by the bare, skinny branches of one particular tree by the sidewalk to notice the Dragon Lady approaching from behind. "Hey there, cutie. You ain't cold?"

I didn't turn to face her, instead snapping another picture of the tree at a slightly different angle. "If I wasn't, would I be wearing a coat?"

"S'pose not."

Her heels clicked on the damp concrete. I heard the rustle of her leather green purse and matching coat as they brushed against each other, as she sauntered up beside me. Heard the pop of the gum she was chewing.

Instantly my body was on alert. Stiff.

I lowered my camera, casting a sideways glance at the woman who was eyeballing me with mock innocence. She grinned. "Why'd you stop?"

"I don't like when people watch me work."

"Then you won't make it far in the industry, I'll tell you that much."

"Go away."

"Did you think about my offer some more?"

"What part of go the hell away don't you understand?"

"That's a new camera, right? Perfect for portraits."

"Larxene."

She stopped then, that seductively coy smile still on her lips. She took a few steps in front of me, twirling to face me, the bottom of her lime dress moving with her. (God, that was a lot of green.) There was a matching head band on her slicked back hair, holding her defiant bangs—did those things count as bangs?—down. She looked… Really good. I didn't let that distract me, though, scowling at the woman.

"I've come to the conclusion that you're either desperate for attention or some form of pedophile. Or both."

She arched a slender brow. Still grinning. "Moi?"

"Definitely."

"And you'll pass up easy money because I _might_ be a desperate pedo-bear?"

"I didn't say I was passing the money up."

I think it was how quickly I had shot back the response that surprised her. Her mouth formed an O and there was some sort of spark in her eyes. Something pleased and fierce and charming all at once. Her laugh, surprisingly, was pleasant. "You're something else, kid, you know that?"

"You're one to talk."

"True, all true." She chuckled, reaching out her acid green nails to drag them briefly through my hair. I pulled my head away, just slightly, but that just made her grin broaden. "You can drop by on Sunday."

"You don't have any plans for the New Year?"

"Just be there." And she winked, popping her gum again. "And bring your pretty face. Oh, and the camera too, I guess."

"Funny."

"Later."

Then she turned to leave, adjusting the strap of her alligator purse and clicking down the sidewalk with a sense of accomplishment radiating from her pores. I probably should have been worried. Should have told her no, but…

I knew she wouldn't take no for an answer. Fine by me.

* * *

><p>Friday was, as usual, one of the busiest days out in town. With the New Year around the corner, it was to be expected. You didn't drive anywhere without getting stuck in insane traffic. You didn't walk into any store without there being a flood of people taking care of last minute shopping. (Really, I didn't get the whole thing with giving gifts on the New Year… Wasn't Christmas enough?) With people swarming like ants left and right, it took me a while to catch a bus that wasn't crowded to Sonata.<p>

There was an ass load of people in the tea house as well. Practically every seat was taken by couples and families, friends, lone dogs with their lap tops propped open on the tables or books and a cup of tea by their side. Even the bar was full.

Aerith, ringing out someone at the register, spotted me from the corner of her eye. Paused long enough to shoot me a smile and a wave. She was too busy to come over, so I just waved back and took a seat at one of the booths closest the door. Set my bag by my side and glanced at the menu. Glanced around for a bit.

I didn't see Sora. Which made sense, when I thought about it. He probably had the day off, was probably off with friends doing his own thing. With Axel? Why did that matter?

"You should've asked Roxas to come with us."

"He had plans."

"Blah, blah, he's always got plans. I think he just doesn't like us."

Wait. Wait a min… What? Was I hearing right?

The booth in front of me. There were six people crowded in it, three people smushed in on either side. Table cluttered with sandwich plates, glasses, silverware. The girl that had spoken at first though, I couldn't see her. Just the deep brown of her hair, the orange Hawaiian print head band she had holding it back. I could only make out three of the faces that were facing me, none of which I recognized. None of which were paying me any mind.

There was some boy with scruffy blonde hair, an almost butterscotch color. Blue eyes, well built frame. He had an arm wrapped around what I assumed was his girlfriend, a girl with brown hair that curled away from her face in a banana-peel way. She was leaning in to him, sipping a smoothie. Beside them was another boy, a little on the big side. Dark brown hair that spiked out in a way that reminded me of a palm tree.

He smiled and rolled his eyes as the couple beside him nuzzled closer to each other. "Tidus, Selphie, get a freakin' room already."

"Shut up, Pence!" The girl, Selphie, turned red in the face only causing her boyfriend and friends to start laughing.

"Anyway, what were you saying, Olette?" That was Sora. The spike of his hair could be seen over the edge of the seat, but just barely. No, he wasn't working today.

"Next break, Spring Break, you should get Roxas to come do something with us."

"Like he's gonna want to do that." Another boy. Sandy colored hair, wavy, also barely seen over the seat. "What'd you say, Sora? He's too wrapped up in his girl or something?"

"…Yeah."

Figures. I'd expected as much from _him_. But that wasn't what I was concerned about at the moment. I was more curious about how Sora and the blonde tied into each other, how they knew each other. Why it even mattered—really, it didn't—never crossed my mind. Why I was eavesdropping on the brunette and his friends didn't bother me in the slightest. I was curious, I really was.

The first girl, Olette, started speaking again. "You'll ask him, right? We haven't seen him in forever."

Sora sighed, discomfort clear in his tone. "How come I have to ask him?"

"Because he's your brother. He'll listen to you."

"No he won't."

And I didn't hear anything else because the only thing I could focus on was the word brother.

Rox…didn't have a brother. Did he? This was the first time I'd ever heard about it, about any of this. You would think, after how much time we had spent together…I would know, right? Then again, if I had a cross-dressing sibling… Well, I don't know. I didn't know what to make of this.

That's when Aerith came by, beaming, seating herself across from me as she let out a sigh. I snapped my attention to her, returning the smile. "Busy day?"

"Busiest. But it's all good. I've got Avery in the back," she said, reaching out her hands to mine. "So. New camera? Let me see, let me see."

"Of course."

And I reached for my bag, carefully pulled out the camera Mom had gotten me. Cradling it like it was an infant, handing it to her with the same amount of care. Her eyes grew wide, lighting up. "Oh, Riku! It's beautiful!"

And I just nodded, amused by how amazed she was by it. Thankful that the other customers in the shop were loud enough to cover up her exclamation, loud enough to keep Sora from hearing my name. He was probably too focused on his friends, but still. I didn't want him to see me. Didn't want to see him, for some reason.

I kept thinking of his brother.

* * *

><p>Transexualism. When one identifies with a sex different than what they're born with. And yet it wasn't as clear cut as that. Apparently the whole thing was a gray area. From what I could find online, in any case. I didn't know why that was the first thing I thought of. He could have easily just enjoyed cross-dressing. But, no. Something in my gut told me transsexual was the word.<p>

I got curious. I went online, looked up what came to mind when I got to thinking about Sora. Yeah, yeah, I know. It was the _perfect_ way to spend my New Year. It's not like I had anything better to do, though. No homework to work on for when I went back to school on Monday. No desire to go out and snap photos, not yet. I'd done that this morning. And Mom was out with _Greg._ The good looking, narcissistic asshole Greg. They had left a couple hours ago, so who knew what they were up to?

But that wasn't what I was focusing on.

I knew what transsexual meant. Still, I felt the need to look it up. To read stories about people who considered themselves to be one, saw pictures. People who fully embraced it. People who thought it was a curse. People who went the extra step, who got corrective surgery. Before and after photos. Some were good, beautiful, looked convincing, but…

I found myself thinking in the back of my mind that none of them compared to Sora.

Why the hell hadn't I gotten a picture of that night?

I sighed and shut down my lap top, closed it then set it on the ground beside my bed. I plopped back onto my pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling. Needed something to do. Needed to think about something else.

Why did Sora keep coming to mind? Sora. Why was I just now finding out he was related to my ex? How could I not have known? How the hell could the blonde have hidden that for so long? How could have made no mention to anyone about it before? Was he ashamed?

And suddenly that yellow haired twerp was on my mind instead, and I found myself getting up to approach my backpack laying forgotten across the room. Dug out my cell phone before falling back onto the bed. I flipped the phone open, pulled up his number.

Why I still had his number, I'll never know, but I pulled it up all the same. Started texting him.

'**Found out u had a brother.'**

Then I flipped it back shut, held it on my stomach as I waited. Which, surprisingly, wasn't that long. It vibrated, gave a small jingle.

Huh.

I opened the phone, eyed the miniscule screen. **'And…?'**

My fingers worked quickly. **'Met him. U 2 r complete opposites.'**

'**And?'** Instant response. I fought back a grin.

'**Is he a tranny?'**

Definitely not the best way to go about it. Definitely not. I think I sent it just to get under his skin. Not because I meant anything against Sora—no, he still fascinated me. But if I was going to mention him to his brother, who obviously didn't want people knowing that the brunette existed in the first place, I might as well have fun with it.

The next message took a while to come, but when it did I glanced at it and I couldn't keep the triumphant grin from crossing my lips.

'**Go fuck urself.'**

I really was a sadistic bastard.

* * *

><p>I stepped outside a little later after that. Wrapped up in my winter coat, wearing pajama pants and a pear green T-shirt underneath. Phone in hand, still eyeballing the text as I walked to the second floor railing.<p>

_The hell is wrong with me?_

I let out a deep breath, flipped the phone shut and slipped it in my pocket. Leaned on the railing, arms crossed, watching my breath snake into the air in front of me before dissolving. It wasn't snowing, but there was still a thick layer all over the world. Swallowing this already depressing area, the cars in the parking lot. Veiling windows. The exposed trees.

Tired. There was no fighting the wave of tiredness that washed over me.

A car drove into the lot, a black Dodge Durango. Stopped by the curb in front of the B Building, parked there. The lights were still on as the two people inside slipped out.

Mom. And her boy toy, Greg. They were talking on the curb, hugging. Making kissy faces and what not.

Didn't want to look at either one of them.

Then I remembered the Dragon Lady's invitation, remembered she had wanted me to come over tonight. And I felt a little grateful, then, relieved almost. Went back to the apartment to get my bag—made sure my camera was carefully tucked away inside—before heading down the stairs to the first floor. Mom and _Greg_ were too wrapped up in each other to pay me any attention. So I went straight to the Dragon Lady's apartment, or what I remembered to be her apartment, and knocked on the door.

It took a while for someone to answer, and when they did it wasn't the person I had expected. An older woman, sheen silver hair fashioned in what could be considered a mullet. Boyish, yet it suited her face. A very slender frame, tall. Taller than the Dragon Lady, even. She had on black leather pants, spike studded belts that sagged against her hips. A tight T-shirt with a design of a skull and maroon snake hugging it on the front. There was a glass of wine in her hand.

I didn't think it was possible, but somehow this woman intimidated me more than Dragon Lady had. There was a scowl on her blood red lips. Her red eyes narrowed as she looked over me. It was silent a moment before she turned back into the apartment, called over her shoulder. "Larx, there's some boy out here."

"What?"

"Get your drunk ass up and see." The woman looked back at me, jerked her head inside. "Come in."

I had no choice but to obey. You don't understand. The way this woman spoke, the way she looked at me. I couldn't help but listen. Stepped inside. She shut the door behind me, strolling towards the living area.

It was nice, warm. The set up was a little different from mine. When you walked in, you were greeted by a small hallway which led into the living room. The L-shaped couch was there, a flat screen resting on a coffee table. Another table in the center, with empty glasses. The bottle of wine. A book shelf beside the television, a case for CDs and DVDs. Across from all of this, the kitchen. Further down, a bedroom. I think the bathroom might have been inside, but I didn't see. The door was closed. Everything was very neat, very organized. Quaint.

It was nice.

The Dragon Lady, who had been sprawled out on the couch, sat up. There was a glass of wine in her hand as well, nearly empty. She gave her catty grin when she caught sight of me, hopped up from the couch. An orange tank top and faded jeans ripped at the knees. That was all she wore. I _really_ liked that outfit on her. Simple. I needed a picture…

The blonde walked up to me, brushed past her silver haired friend as she did so. "I was beginning to think you forgot about me."

"I pretty much did. Then I got bored and thought I'd come over here."

"Well aren't you honest?"

Her friend was pouring a third glass, holding it up and whistling to catch our attention. She eyed me. "You want a drink?"

I blinked. "I'm sixteen."

"Didn't stop me."

What was with these women? And why was I still here? Why was I here?

But I took the drink anyway, seating myself on the couch and setting my bag beside me. Watching as the two women plopped back on the couch as well and flipped through channels. Talking casually with one another. It was a while before the Dragon Lady seemed to remember something, let out an "Oh," then tapped my leg.

I met her gaze as she pointed to her friend. "That's Paine."

Paine raised a couple fingers to me in greeting, not really tearing her eyes away from the TV screen. "Hey."

"Paine, this is Riku."

"I already said hey."

"Bitch, don't be rude."

"Whore, don't call me a bitch."

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want. Come in here, drinkin' my wine..."

And the blonde rolled over onto her back, laid her head in my lap with her drink held above her. I narrowed my eyes at her, staring at the playful expression on her face. She didn't move, just made herself comfortable before crossing her legs and planting them in Paine's lap. (The other woman didn't seem to mind.) With a sly grin, the blonde lifted her glass to mine. "Cheers to the New Year."

"We still got two hours to go."

"So cheers anyway."

And I felt comfortable in that moment, comfortable enough to clink my glass to hers before taking a long sip. I didn't get this woman. If I was smart, I would be steering clear away from her.

But I didn't care and simply grinned back. "Cheers."


	6. Since You've Been Gone

**Author's Note:** Gah! Thanks for reading, you guys! You all are amazing. And thanks for all of you who are pointing out the mistakes. I definitely don't catch them the third time around, which is sad, but I appreciate it when you do. Much love~

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; I Can Breathe for the First Time<br>**

You know, I have never understood why some girls cried after a bad breakup. I mean, you would think they would be happier knowing they don't have to worry about someone who wouldn't treat them right in the first place, right? You would think it would be easier to put the past behind them and go on with their lives, right?

But I understood now. Definitely. It's not about how that person would have or could have treated you. It's not about common sense or any of that. It's that _feeling_ you have for them that never truly goes away. When you think about it, you can't really ever _forget_ that feeling, no matter how hard you try. It's always there, just a shred of it, and it drives you crazy. You don't ever forget having that feeling. I don't care what anyone says; you just don't. You can fall out of love, sure.

But you never truly forget being in love. That's why you cry.

That's why I found myself hating for the first time.

I don't hate people. No. I can have a strong dislike for you, though. A dislike that can only be expressed by punching holes in a wall. But not hate. That's why I was surprised when I got home from work on Wednesday, two days after my strange talk with Riku… Surprised by how much anger and hurt welled up in me at once. Surprised by what I saw.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ms. Gainsborough had given me off until the end of my break, until Monday. So I left Sonata a little early that day, caught a bus and got home around six. Sadie padded up to me the moment I stepped through the front door, rubbed her hind parts on my leg until I bent down and picked her up. Kissed the side of her head, held her against my apron (which _really_ needed to be washed) as she purred and flicked her tail. There was a note on the coffee table in the living room, from Grams.

_Out grocery shopping. There's never enough milk in here._

_Love Grandma Gina._

I smiled at the sticky note, left it where it was. Headed for the kitchen for a drink of water.

Stopped in the doorway.

Stopped and saw Axel—again. And Roxas. Again. The blonde was sitting on the counter by the fridge, leaning back enough for his head to press against the cupboard. And Axel was in front of him, his face right in front of him. Leaning in. And he had his arms wrapped around the red head's neck, was pulling him closer.

And they were kissing. Like… I mean, they were _kissing._ Both with their eyes closed. And they were really into it. They didn't even notice I was there, hadn't heard me.

Then I turned and left and went upstairs, holding Sadie a little tighter against my chest.

I hated him for it. Both of them. I really did.

I don't hate people, no, but I figured there was a first for everything.

I stayed upstairs after that, just changed into my "normal" clothes. Closed my bedroom door. Worked on homework. Nibbled on the eraser on my pencil, watched Sadie slink around my room before she rolled onto her back and stared at me with wide sky blue eyes.

I don't know how long Axel had been over—didn't care to know. I put on my headphones, listened to my Paramore playlist for an hour straight, on repeat, as I worked on my homework. At some point I heard their voices out in the hall, enjoying themselves, laughing. Then a pause.

Roxas' voice. "I think Sora's home. Was his door closed earlier? His door wasn't closed."

"When'd he get in?"

"Dunno."

And one of them knocked. I didn't move from my desk, instead turned my music up. "Studying."

"'Kay. Sorry." Then they were walking away from the door, retreating to Rox's room. "Yeah, he's home."

Sorry my foot.

* * *

><p>I didn't talk to Roxas until much later that night, around the time Ma got back from work and spent the rest of the night talking with Grams. Hadn't wanted to look at him before then, but curiosity drove me out of my room and into his. Axel had long since gone—when, exactly, I'm not sure, but I had heard them head back downstairs while talking about plans they had later for the week.<p>

Rox was lying on his bed when I came in, reading some fiery orange and yellow covered book. _The Girl Who Played With Fire_, it was. He had glanced at me when I walked in, made a small sound of greeting. I just stood in by the door, closing it behind me.

It was a moment before he realized I wasn't moving or saying anything, before he tucked his bookmark inside the novel and sat up on his bed. "What do you want?"

"It's not fair to Xion, you know."

And that threw him completely off guard, made him narrow his eyes in confusion as he tilted his head to the side. The blonde set the book down beside him, frowning. "What?"

"You and Axel." I was fighting, fighting very hard—very, very hard—to keep my voice even. To keep the anger out of it.

Suddenly he was in defensive move. "What about me and Axel?"

"How long have you two been dating?"

"We're not."

"I know you are. I came home earlier and saw him kissing you in the kitchen."

A pause. Extremely slight, but it was there. I picked up on it. "Well, you saw wrong. We were just talking."

"If you're gay—"

"I'm not," he snapped. The look on his face… He looked about ready to chuck his book at me. To be honest, I wanted to walk up to his bed, grab it from him, and smack him upside the head with it myself. But I stayed by the door, hands folded behind my back as we held a silent staring contest.

A sigh escaped my lips and I shook my head. "…I'm not gonna tell Ma."

"Good, 'cause there's nothing to tell."

And at that point, right there, when those words left his mouth—I'd had enough. I had made it to the point where, if I stayed there any longer, I really would have hurt him.

Because you don't forget being in love, even if it's brief. Because you don't forget that feeling, even if you try to let it go. You don't forget. I didn't forget. And I was furious, then, because he didn't appreciate what he had, what I had wanted. He had the attention, the love I had wanted and he didn't appreciate it. At all. It made me so upset that my eyes started to water and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

"What?" And I just shook my head, opened the door and left. The expression on my face must have been worrying, because I heard him hop off of his bed and rush to catch up with me. He grabbed my arm just as I walked through my door, held me there with a look on his face. Confusion. Concern. And something…searching. Like he was just realizing something for the first time. Practically glaring at him, I tried to tug my arm away. He only tightened his grip. "Sora, wait— What were you about to say?"

I looked at him, no longer able to contain myself. I felt a tear slide down my cheek, light. Warm against my already hot skin. And he blinked in discomfort, loosened his grip a little as I whispered, "He deserves someone who'll openly love him."

The boy blinked, mouth wide. Eyes wide. A light clicked on in his head. "D…do _you_ like him?"

Without a word I just yanked my arm away, took a step back into my room, and slammed the door in his face.

* * *

><p>We had gone skiing on Thursday. Ever since Selphie had mentioned it last month, the six of us—Tidus, Selphie, Pence, Hayner, Olette, and I—had saved up money so that we could go. Even if it only lasted for one day, it was fun. I kept getting buried in snow the entire time, and Olette was no better off, but it was fun. Tidus' dad had driven us back into town Friday evening, and instead of going straight home we convinced him to drop us off at Sonata for lunch.<p>

Luckily, we made it in time before the New Year's Eve crowd _really_ started swarming in. Ms. Gainsborough was the one to greet us when we walked in, to pull me into a friendly hug before seating us at a booth and taking our orders.

"And everything's on a discount today," the woman said as she laid out the coasters.

Tidus beamed. "Ah, really? Because of the holiday?"

"Because my favorite employee decided to eat here for lunch," she said. Then she winked at me, ruffled my hair—which I strangely didn't mind that much, coming from her. "I'll be out with your drinks."

"Thanks!"

Olette turned to me as the woman disappeared behind the counter, nudging my arm. "We need to go skiing again next year."

Hayner, who sat beside her, sighed and slumped in his seat. Folded his arms behind his head. "I don't got money like that."

"And? Your parents were the ones that paid."

"Well, _they_ don't have money like that."

"You should've asked Roxas to come with us," Olette went on, ignoring the sandy haired boy's comment.

My smile faltered at the mention of my brother. I hadn't talked to him since Wednesday. Didn't want to. And I definitely hadn't wanted him to come skiing with me and my friends, not after… I hadn't really told any of them what went down. Always the excuse that he had plans with his girlfriend, or school, or practice. He didn't have the time. "He had plans."

"Blah, blah, he's always got plans. I think he just doesn't like us."

I would have said something, but couldn't. Didn't know what to say, because Rox had stopped hanging out with us—well, Hayner, Pence, and Olette, specifically—for a while. I couldn't tell you why, he just didn't. Well. Maybe it was because I was their friend too. Maybe because he didn't know if they knew about me or not…which they didn't. They didn't need to.

At that moment, Pence gave a roll of the eyes as he eyed the couple beside him. Tidus and Selphie were nuzzling up real close to each other, making goo-goo eyes that just put a smile on the brunette's lips. The boy shook his head at them. "Tidus, Selphie, get a freakin' room already."

To which Selphie blushed and shot back, "Shut up, Pence!"

We laughed, forgetting the mention of Roxas. And I had hoped, when I looked back to Olette, that that would be the last of it. "Anyway, what were you saying, Olette?"

"Next break, Spring Break, you should get Roxas to come do something with us."

"Like he's gonna want to do that," Hayner muttered. "What'd you say, Sora? He's too wrapped up in his girl or something?"

"…Yeah."

Olette wasn't having it, though. Honestly, I wanted her to drop it. _Stop mentioning him to me._ She gave me an expectant, almost eager stare. "You'll ask him, right? We haven't seen him in forever."

"How come I have to ask him?"

"Because he's your brother. He'll listen to you."

"No he won't."

"Oh, Riku! It's beautiful!"

Wait… Riku?

It took me a moment to realize that it wasn't someone at our table who had spoken, but someone behind us. Sounded almost like Ms. Gainsborough. Riku was… Wait. That's right, that boy that always dropped by here when I worked. Was he here now?

Just as quickly as the curiosity had come it disappeared. By the time I had snapped out of my thoughts my friends had already moved onto a different topic—thank God. Selphie was bouncing in her seat, in agreement with whatever Tidus was saying. Something about throwing a party for the New Year, maybe.

"Or ice skating," Pence chimed in, taking a sip of his cocoa.

"Shit no!" Hayner snapped, slapping a fist on the table. That just made the others laugh.

"You 'fraid?"

"No."

"Yes you are."

"Zip it, Parkers, before I do it for you."

"Hey." Olette nudged me again as Pence and Hayner went back and forth with their playful quips. A look of concern was on her face as she whispered, "You up for ice skating?"

I just nodded, smiling. Not really forcing it, but not really feeling it either. "Maybe. I'll have to ask my mom."

"Ask Roxas, too."

"…Sure."

* * *

><p>Saturday night. New Year's night. Mom and Grams were cooking dinner in the kitchen. A large meal, you know? Ham and greens and sweet potatoes. Beans, macaroni. The whole shebang. I could smell the rolls in the oven, too, Grams' special recipe. Until the two women were done the kitchen was off limits. So Rox was downstairs doing whatever—we still weren't talking. I mean, we never really talked, but we were not talking to each other more than usual…if that makes sense. And I was upstairs, lying on my bed.<p>

Sadie was curled up on my chest, starting to fall asleep as I texted Tidus about a possible date for our ice skating trip. Then my phone rang halfway through a text, annoying me just the slightest bit. I hate when I have to start a text over.

So I pressed the green phone icon on my cell, answered. "Hello?"

"Hey."

Axel. That was all I thought. Axel. "…What do you want?"

He got right to the point, sounding very…reserved. "Rox and I are going to the movies next Friday."

"The sixth?"

"Yeah. Xion too… I wanted to know if you'd come with us."

"Roxas _and_ Xion?"

"He already made the date with her, so he invited me too."

_So you don't want to be the third wheel._ He could have told Rox no, to be honest. Or, better yet, he could have left me out of it. But he hadn't, so I took the opportunity to be snippy with him again. I couldn't help it. "I bet that pisses you off."

A pause. A sigh, tired. A little frustrated. "Kinda, yeah."

We grew silent then, not the comfortable kind. Comfortable silences between the two of us had long since passed. Eventually I let out a sigh, pressed my head back into my pillow and ran a hand over Sadie's head with my free hand. "What do you want from me, Axel?"

"I wanna know we're okay." This time he let out a deeper breath, heavier. This time I could hear the apology in his voice, the anger. Like he was upset with himself, with the whole situation. He should be… "Fucking _Christ_, Sora, I want you to talk to me again."

"Well I don't want to talk to you."

"You're talking to me now, aren't ya?"

"Just so I can tell you that I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"What the hell did you expect, huh? We were drunk—"

"No." Sadie jolted up when I sat up, hopped off my chest and onto the other end of the bed with a disgruntled growl. My fingers were turning pink with the way I was gripping my phone to my ear, biting out my words. "We were buzzed. Not drunk, buzzed. You were sober enough to know what the hell you were doing and I was sober enough to say no. But I didn't. So here we are."

"You're—"

"And don't you _dare_ pin it on me! Okay? Don't you dare say I'm overreacting or some crap like that, because it's not fair! I cared first. I loved you first. _You _kissed _me_. _You _came onto _me,_ Axel. And that's not fair. It's not _fair_, Axel. You and Roxas. That's not fucking fair."

The silence was deafening.

A long time…

Neither of us spoke.

For a long time.

As angry as I was…I wanted to see his face. As hurt as I was, I still wanted to see his face. I still wanted to hear his voice. Part of me was glad, in fact, that he had bothered to call in the first place. Even though it was a couple weeks too late, still… It was too late.

It was way too late.

I exhaled, loosening my grip on my cell. "No. I don't want to go to the movies with you. You three have fun."

"Whatever… Whatever, man."

"I'm not a man. And lose my number."

"Whatever."

He hung up first.

* * *

><p>The New Year came and went with relative ease. Save for the slightly awkward moments I spent alone with Roxas on Sunday, the rest of my break was enjoyable. Grams went back home on Monday, Mom went back to work. I went back to Sonata after school on Tuesday—because Ms. Gainsborough had taken a day off the day before to finish visiting family—and my schedule went back to normal. Wake up in the morning, early breakfast, get ready for school. And after school, come home just to catch a bus straight to the tea house. I had missed the shop the few days I had off, more than I had expected I would. Like I said before, it gave me something to do. And Ms. Gainsborough was really a sweetheart.<p>

I did miss dressing up, though. But, well… What can you do?

Riku started showing up again, too. After school, of course, around four this time. That Tuesday he snapped his pictures, still chatted with Ms. Gainsborough, still snuck his photos of me. Well, he was actually more blatant about it, now. Whenever I looked his way he'd just lift his camera and _snap_. Then this smile would cross his face when he saw that I was either annoyed or embarrassed and he'd do it again.

I still didn't get this boy.

It was around five-thirty, when business had slowed and it was just two or three people, that I approached him with a small plate of left over Santa cookies in my hand. Ms. Gainsborough and I had made an extra batch earlier because a customer's child had asked for one.

So I brought the plate of cookies to his booth and took a seat across from him, setting it down in the middle of the table. "It's belated, but Merry Christmas."

He leaned his elbows on the table, glanced at the plate before grabbing a cookie and taking a bite out of Santa's face. "And a Happy New Year."

"So, did you get any good presents?" It was weird, really. How easily I could just talk to him, like I'd known him forever. And how awkward it was around him at the same time. I couldn't explain it… The platinum haired teen reached in his bag, pulled out a second camera—his first one was sitting beside his arm on the table—and held it up for me to see. Sleek, black. _Definitely_ not a cheap item, definitely something precious. He was holding it with both hands, carefully. My eyes widened as I reached out for it. "Oh, wow! That looks expensive."

"It is—" Milky green eyes narrowing, he held it away from me. "Don't touch it."

"Can I see?"

"Don't. Break it. Or I'll castrate you." And, warily, he placed it in my outstretched hands.

"You don't know me well enough to threaten me with that," I told him with a grin, examining the many buttons on the device, trying to figure out how to skim through his pictures. There were so many. Nice ones. No, nice was an understatement. These were _really_ good, straight up. He had an eye; that was for sure. I looked through his photos of trees, flowers, stray cats. A dingy looking apartment building, the cars in it. Some pretty lady with slicked back blonde hair, strange bangs. A lot of her, actually. She looked like a model, some of the poses she made. Almost...almost provocative. And another woman, just as beautiful, that I assumed was his mother. He had her hair, her eyes. There was more, too, but too many to count.

Blown away, I looked up at the boy who was now eyeing me with a laid back expression. I set the camera carefully onto the table beside the plate, directly across from his smaller camera. "So… You're, like, really serious about this kind of thing, huh?"

A shrug. He stole another cookie. "It's what I do."

"It's pretty cool."

"How's Roxas?"

And that threw me off, the abruptness of the question. I felt my heart flutter at the mention of the blonde, felt my chest tighten. It was completely out of the blue. "What?"

"Roxas. You guys are brothers, right?"

"Are you two friends?"

"No."

"Oh…"

He was quiet for a moment, munching on his cookie. Thinking. I found myself taking a cookie for myself, nibbling on it as he regarded me thoughtfully. Finally, and here his voice was soft, he spoke. "We used to go out."

I stared. Blinked. Thought I hadn't heard right. I couldn't have heard right, could I? But he was just staring at me with the same laid back expression, his hand now pressed to his cheek and his elbow still resting on the table as he ate. I shook my head, swallowing hard. "O…oh? Wait. W..wait, you mean, like… Going out? Like dating?"

"No, I mean like standing outside and staring at the sun until our eyeballs boil. Yes, I mean dating."

"He never…"

"It was on the DL." And when I gave him a questioning look, he rolled his eyes and added, "The down low."

Wow. Really. I got to thinking of last week, of my conversation with Roxas. About that day with him and Axel in the kitchen... I frowned. "I mean… Wow. He told me he wasn't gay."

Riku gave an angry snort, shaking his head. "He's still spouting that bullshit?"

"Yeah. It kind of…kind of pisses me off."

"Why? 'Cause he's still parading around with his girlfriend?"

"No, because he's… He has a new boyfriend, I guess, but he denies it. I know they're going out, though. I just wish—"

"That he'd come out already. Right?" I met the boy's gaze, saw the expression on his face. Almost nostalgic. The frown was still in place, though. Bangs falling in his face. What was with his hair? I still wanted to touch it. Still thought he was cute. He shrugged again, finishing his second cookie. "Why do you think we broke up?"

"When did you go out?"

"Two years ago. Freshman year."

"For…"

"Eight months. Let's see how long he and his new boy toy last."

Boy toy, huh? I felt another pang in my heart. "Probably a while."

"This guy he's with… What's his name?"

_Don't make me talk about him. _"You probably don't know him."

"What's his name?"

I paused for a moment, took another cookie. Glanced around the shop absently. Ms. Gainsborough was in the kitchen still, probably cooking. I took a large bite, voice low. "Axel Tunstall."

"Axel, huh?" Another thoughtful look. I decided I didn't quite trust that look he got. I could never tell what he was thinking, what would come out of his mouth next. "You like him?"

"What?"

"Do you like him?"

"I never said—"

"You didn't need to. It's written on your face."

"I…" I could feel the heat rush to my face when those words left his mouth. Couldn't quite think straight, didn't know what to feel. So I settled for indignant and clenched one of my hands into a fist. "Why is it your business anyway?"

"I'm just saying." And he laughed. He was actually laughing, somewhat mirthlessly. Took another cookie. We were down to two. "So, what, are they lovey-dovey now?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." Why was I telling him any of this in the first place? It didn't make any sense… "They have a date on Friday, but I don't care anymore."

"Where?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Your brother stole your man. You're just gonna let it go down like that?"

"That doesn't answer the question." He really made no sense.

A sly smile crossed his lips; a spark entered his eye. "I wanna go and piss him off."

"Don't."

"Not your choice. Where're they going?"

"…A movie."

"Which one?"

"Regal Cinema."

"No, what movie are they seeing?"

"I don't know." That part was a lie, but I didn't tell him that. Weird. This whole thing, this boy—it was weird. Beyond weird. I didn't get it. I glanced down at the last two cookies on the plate. I reached for the plate, but he lightly slapped my hand away and pulled it closer to him. Took another cookie, took a bite. I sighed, shaking my head. Suddenly tired. "Look, I have to get back to work."

I got up from the table just as another customer stepped inside and headed for the register. Ms. Gainsborough was still in the back, so I made to go to the bar. Riku's sudden call stopped me, though.

"Sora."

Curious, I looked back at him, watched as he reached across the table for his expensive camera and placed it back in his bag. He picked up the other one, fingered the on button for a moment before matching my gaze. "Come to the movies with me."

"Wh… What?"

"Come out with me on Friday."

"I… I can't. I got plans," I lied.

He didn't seem to care. "Cancel them."

"What is your deal with me?"

"I said I found you interesting, didn't I?"

"More or less, sure."

"Yes or no?"

I stared at him, not really sure what he was playing at. Not sure what to say. The customer that had walked in, a young woman with a pair of headphones dangling around her neck, waved to catch my attention and gave a peeved, "Excuse me."

"Coming ma'am! Sorry!" I glanced back at Riku, frowning. Thinking on my feet. "Look… Yeah, sure, okay?"

"What's your number?"

"Ask me after my shift ends."

And he did. He waited until I finished serving the remaining customers, finished cleaning up the tables and packing away whatever leftovers Ms. Gainsborough wanted to save for tomorrow. Then he caught me when I walked out of the building at six-thirty, bag slung over his shoulder and hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He pulled out his phone, went to his contact page and asked for my number. Address. (I think he knew it already, though, considering his history with Roxas…)

Then, when all of that was said and done, he gave me a goodbye and a smile, said he'd see me on Friday.

I really. Really. Didn't get that guy.

* * *

><p>"Geez, Sora, you run like a girl."<p>

"Shut up!"

He had no idea just how close to home that actually hit… See, this was why I hated gym with a passion. Because it was always freakishly disgusting outside whenever Coach made us run laps outside—it wasn't that warm, but it wasn't too cold—on the track. This Thursday in particular was humid and breezy, not necessarily chilly. The clouds were out. Mud footprints traced the asphalt trail. And I was stuck with a bunch of sweaty, stinky boys. That was _not_ my idea of a fun school day. My only source of comfort came from Hayner, who was currently jogging in place and waiting for me to catch up.

He shook his head with an amused grin when I finally did get my tail in gear. "Come on, man. Pick it up."

_Don't call me a man._

So we ran side by side, ignoring the few guys that jogged past us and moving around the ones that had given up and opted to walk the track instead (to Coach's displeasure).

Hayner let out a breath as we went around the curve. Then he glanced at me out of the side of his eye, started to speak, panting between each word as he did so. "Hey, so… Um, I talked to Pence about it for a bit and he said I should go for it…"

I narrowed my eyes at him curiously. "Go for what?"

"I wanna ask Olette out."

"Aww!"

"Don't _aww_! me, this is serious business! What should I say?"

"You're asking the wrong person."

"Shit, man."

_You're so adorable. God, Hay, you're so cute._ I didn't say this, of course, but the thought was still there as I grinned and assured him, "You'll be fine. Besides, she likes you anyway."

"She said that?"

"It's obvious."

"Well, if it's obvious to you…"

"Hey!"

It was our usual banter. We talked some more until Coach blew his whistle, waved from the gate exit for us to head back inside. Our class herded back into the gym, back to the locker room. We had fifteen minutes left until fourth period, so there was the usual clamber as we all took to the showers. About thirty guys in the locker room at once, half of them from our class and the other half dressing out early for their fourth period.

I always hated this part of the day. I really did.

I didn't belong in here. I didn't _like_ it in here, not when there were so many eyes, so many faces, so many hairy legs and…I just started getting really self conscious. I knew no one necessarily stared at me, but it felt like it all the same. Whenever I dressed out, whenever I took the quick shower I needed before putting my school clothes back on and grabbing my things from my locker. It smelled like…well, like guy. It smelled like a messy boys' locker room. I wanted to get some body spray for when gym was over, something floral. But… Guys didn't do that.

I didn't belong in here.

I thought this every day I had gym, every time I sat down on one of the many blue benches down the aisles the lockers made and changed. My locker was right in front of the shower area, so I had to avert my gaze when the other guys came in and out wrapped in their towels.

Today, though. For some reason I looked up right when I finished drying off, right when I started pulling my shirt back over my head.

I saw butterscotch hair covered by a black beanie, met cool blue eyes that looked back at me with disdain. Their owner, wrapped up in nothing but a towel, scowled at me. I…I think I recognized him. From another class, last year in my sophomore year. Some guy that I hadn't really liked but was forced to work with once for a group project. Seifer. That was his name. The way he was looking at me, I couldn't help but stare back.

The blonde made to brush past me, stopped instead. Stopped a few inches from me, frowning. "The hell are you looking at?"

Fighting back the blush that crept over my face, I averted my gaze and sat back down on the bench in front of my locker. Grabbed my jeans, lowered my voice. "Nothing."

"_Nothing_," he mimicked, voice annoyingly high. Obnoxiously high. He got close to me, eyed me up and down. Too close. I ignored him as best I could, focused on getting my clothes out of my locker.

Then he scoffed and turned to leave, slapping me on the head as he did so, making me flinch. "Faggot."

"Hey, man, screw you."

And we both turned towards the other voice then. My eyes were a little wide when I realized it was Hayner, already dressed, bag slung over his shoulder and ready for me to walk with him to our next class. He scowled at Seifer, who had a hand on his hip and his other hand clenched in a fist.

I didn't like this. Looked to my friend, tried to get his attention. "Hayner…"

"Say that to my face," Seifer demanded.

"I said fuck off."

"Hayner, let it go," I pleaded. Which usually never worked with him, because the boy was hard headed and didn't let things go. Rarely. Just this once…I would have appreciated it.

Some others were watching the scene from where they stood, some chattering on about the possible fight that was going down. Some just curious. Some annoyed.

Seifer just fueled Hayner's anger by giving an amused huff and nodding towards me. "Yeah, listen to your girlfriend."

Oooh's sounded in the background. Tools. Idiots who just wanted someone to throw the first punch. I wanted to reach out and grab Hayner's hand, keep him from lunging forward. Didn't have to worry about it, though, because at that moment one of the female coaches opened the door from the other end of the room and yelled in without looking. "Five minutes 'til the bell! Hurry it up, boys!"

And the moment of tension passed. Seifer had already turned and was heading for his locker, pleased with himself. Hayner was fuming, fist clenched and jaw tight. He let out a deep breath, lightly punched me on my shoulder as I kept dressing.

"Don't let assholes like him walk all over you, Sora."

"Sorry."

"And don't apologize. Jesus." He scratched the back of his head, adjusted how his bag hung over his shoulder. "Grow a backbone, will ya?"

"Hayner…"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"Yeah, whatever. Hurry up or we'll be late."

* * *

><p>Riku had come out to our house on Friday. Not long after Axel had dropped by with Xion to pick Roxas up. (Luckily the three of them left before we did, so we didn't have to deal with seeing them. Would have been awkward…) Ma had offered to give Riku and me a ride to the movie theater, but was surprised (as I was) to see two new additions to our group turn up on our doorstep. Kairi and Naminé, Riku had introduced, the two girls that had come to Sonata with him weeks ago.<p>

"I thought it was just two of you?" Ma asked as we all headed for the car.

Naminé gave an apologetic grimace. "Oh… Sorry. It was last minute. We kind of invited ourselves."

"It's fine," Ma assured her with a smile. "I just want to know if your parents know you're out with us."

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay. Let's go."

I'm sure we made it to the theater a good ten minutes after Rox and them did. And I had to remind myself as Ma pulled up the curb to drop us off not to keep thinking about what Roxas and his friends were doing. Because I was out with my own friends…if they counted as friends. I really didn't know the trio that well.

Ma had leaned out to the passenger's side window when she let us out of the car. "You plan on eating while out?"

"Not sure."

She handed me fifty dollars, folded discreetly as she pressed it to my palm. "Here. For everyone, okay? I'll be back around ten. Call me when you guys are done."

"Thanks, Ma."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Then she drove off, leaving the four of us to ourselves.

Instantly Kairi beamed and wrapped an arm around her blonde friend's shoulders. "Yes! Haven't been to a movie in forever."

"We went last week."

"That felt like forever, though."

"Come on, you boneheads," Riku said exasperatedly, rolling his eyes and smiling in spite of himself.

"Yeah, let's get this double date started."

"What movie are we seeing again," Kairi asked.

I quickly to tried calm myself after hearing the phrase "double date", shuffling my feet and replying, "Um, Source Code."

"Well, let's go."

It hadn't taken us long to buy our tickets, get snacks and popcorn, and find a suitable row near the front of Theater Six. Not close to the point where we'd be craning our heads back, but close enough to be comfortable. And when we settled into our seats, Kairi and Naminé to my left and Riku to my right, I felt a strange feeling of calm wash over me. The slight nervousness that had been floating around in the back of my head ebbed away as we quietly chatted while the Regal First Look previews played on the screen.

It took me a few minutes to notice the shock of red hair from the corner of my eye. I glanced towards the other aisle, further ahead, noticed Axel and Roxas and Xion settled with their popcorn, joking around about something. Frowned.

Riku seemed to follow my gaze and gave a knowing, "Jealous?"

I stared at him, whispered back, "Are you?"

He didn't say anything to that. Just took a sip of soda and looked back to the screen.

_Just ignore them. You're with friends. Ignore the three of them…_

And I did.

The movie was better than I had expected, had kept my eyes glued to the screen and had grabbed my attention long enough to keep my mind off of my usual worries. Every now and then I would reach over to Riku for a handful of popcorn from his bowl, would take in the random looks he would shoot me whenever the movie got quiet. Something close to the look Axel had given me when we had first met. And something more. I couldn't place it.

It made me feel…a little nice.

And when it was over, when we had finished, we made sure to file out of the theater quickly and cross the street to the T.G.I.F. for dinner.

Riku's friends were…well, different than I had expected. Extremely pretty, both of them. Bubbly. Nice. Everything I usually expected out of Selphie or Olette, and yet a little edgier than that. It had taken me until halfway through our meal to realize that they were actually a couple instead of really good friends. ("It's taking you _this_ long to figure that out," Riku teased. "Man, you're kind of slow, huh?")

It was nice having the two girls to talk to, nice getting to know the kind of people my mystery stalker hung out with. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it made me understand completely the kind of person he was, but it was a nice brief look. By the end of the night, I felt like I had three new people to call friends.

By the time Ma dropped by to pick us up, Rox, Axel, and Xion had already gone on their way back home. (Or somewhere. I didn't really pay attention to where the red head's car was heading when we had first left the theater) The woman had met up with us at the T.G.I.F parking lot, had parked the car and walked up to our group with a smile on her face. "How was it?"

"Amazing!" Kairi exclaimed right away, locking arms with her girlfriend.

"I can't wait until it's out on DVD," Naminé chimed with the same enthusiasm.

"That good, huh?" Ma laughed before looking to me, holding out a hand. "Where's my change, hon?"

"Here." I handed her the left over money, which she tucked in her purse before looking back at the girls.

"Where am I dropping you girls off?"

Naminé shook her head. "Oh, Kairi's dad was on his way. We already agreed he'd pick us up."

"There he is now— Daddy, over here."

And a navy blue truck pulled up to the sidewalk as the red head waved to the driver. I stood back with Riku as the girls approached the truck, as Ma walked up the Kairi's dad and greeted him. They talked for a bit about whatever it was adults felt the need to talk about, laughing as the twin-like girls climbed into the back seat of the truck. Then, when Ma stepped away from the driver's side of the car, the two rolled down a window and waved to us.

"Bye, Riku. Sora. Thank you, Sora's mom!"

Mom waved back, highly amused. "Take care."

That just left the three of us, Riku, Ma, and me. We headed back for the car, climbed in. I took the front seat—partly because I liked riding shotgun and mostly because I was nervous about sitting next to Riku again.

When we were all buckled in, Ma turned around to face the silver haired teen. "Where am I taking you, sir?"

"There's a bus stop a few blocks away, if you didn't mind dropping me off there."

"Where's your house?"

"I'll just catch the bus."

Ma frowned, arching a slender chocolate brow. "It's too late for someone your age to be out by himself."

"It's fine."

"Are your parents okay with that?"

He shrugged, slumping down a little in his seat. Avoided Ma's eye. "My mom doesn't really care so long as I get home."

A brief silence. Ma wasn't having any of it.

"What's the address?"

"You don't have to—"

"I'm dropping you off. I'm not about to let someone else's child wander the streets at night. What's your address?"

I turned back to face him, fighting back the amused grin that crossed my lips. "Don't argue with her. You won't win."

"Darn straight," the woman added. She was still staring at Riku expectantly.

And he seemed to get it then and decided to give in, sighing. "Do you know where Rhine Wood is?"

"Yes."

It wasn't a long drive, about twenty or so minutes from the movie theater. We ended up driving up to a rather small apartment complex—hadn't this been in his set of pictures? It was a dim, gray looking area, lit well enough but still…what's the word? It was a little depressing.

Ma had parked along the curb in front of the building Riku had pointed out. We both watched as the teen slipped out of the car from the back seat and stepped onto the sidewalk. He faced my window, which I rolled down enough for him to lean in and shoot a polite smile to Ma. "Thank you, Mrs. Sabota."

"You take care, Riku."

Then he looked to me, smiled. A little different than what he had given my mother. Warmer. It made something in my chest flutter. "Later."

Thankful that it was too dark for him to see the light blush that crept on my face, I nodded. "Yeah."

Then he was heading up the stairs and into one of the apartments on the second floor. Ma waited until he was inside before pulling out and steering us back on the road. A comfortable silence settled over us as we drove home.

I glanced over at her at one point. "Ma."

"Hm?"

I thought for a long moment, about everything. Axel. Roxas. Riku. My clothes, my makeup, my _desire_. I thought about a lot of things in a matter of seconds, wanted to talk about it all right then. To speak my mind, spill everything.

But the moment passed and I just shook my head. "Um… Nevermind."


	7. Feelin' You

**Riku; And We'll Walk to the Other Side  
><strong>

"Tilt your head to the side some."

"Like this?"

Poised. She was leaning against the wall, hip jutting out slightly. One arm, the one furthest away from me, was pressed to the wall of her bedroom—there were still several boxes stacked in another corner, so there was plenty of room. Her palm was out, fingers curled. Almost like she was pointing. Or trying to grab the air. Her other arm was bent by her waist, just hanging leisurely. She had on a teal cocktail dress today. No…more like sky blue with the faintest hint of green. Strapless with a white sash right across the waist, a bow. Then the rest fanned out down to her knees in soft frills. Blue eye shadow, lipstick. A little bit of pink blush. A white bow clipped to her hair.

She looked amazing.

I let out a gentle breath. "Yeah. That's perfect."

Those full lips curled into a playful smile. She tilted her head to her shoulder a little more, pointing one of her knees out further. "I aim for perfection."

"And stop talking."

"You're the boss." And she zipped her lips and assumed a standoffish expression once more. I took another step away from her, careful not to bump into the edge of her bed. Lifted my new camera to take the picture. She really did look amazing… She was strange and different and probably a snake in disguise, waiting to suck out my soul, but she really did look amazing.

It was Monday, the day right after New Year's, and I'd entered the Dragon Lady's lair for a second time. We had agreed yesterday, after Paine had left for the night, that I would come back after school today for an impromptu photo shoot. (I guess you could call it a photo shoot, right? I mean, this was her bedroom, after all…) I'd take the pictures, let her look through them and pick the ones she wanted, copy them onto her computer, get my money, then leave. In and out.

That _was_ the plan, anyway.

About fifty photos later we were finished. I took my camera and left the room, plopped down onto the living room couch as she took a shower. Watched a little TV while I waited, skimmed through some of the pictures. They were good, most of them. Not that the quality was bad, but some of them just didn't feel…right. You know? But for the most part they were good. I liked photographing this woman. She had a look that drew you in.

It took about twenty minutes for Larxene to slip back out of her room, now sporting a pair of jeans and some white blouse she had probably yanked from her closet. A pink towel was draped around her shoulders, catching the water that dripped from her damp hair. I didn't move or say anything as she let out a content sigh and sat down beside me. She took the camera—carefully, I made sure—and looked through the slide show of her photos. Silent, the entire time, eyes glued to the screen. I watched her. She had taken her makeup off… I was a little…nervous? Why was I nervous?

After what seemed like ages of wordless torture, the woman finally nodded, a serious expression on her face. "I'm starting to think you could really do this professionally, kid."

I breathed. "You like them?"

"Love 'em."

"Which ones do you want?"

"All of them."

My eyes widened a bit. "All?"

"Can you put these on a flash drive and email them to me?"

"Uh, sure."

She handed the camera back to me, raising a slender brow. "You do have a flash drive, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Ookies, then." And she hopped up from her seat, grinning, before raising a ringed finger to me and saying, "Wait a second."

All I could do was nod as she went back to her room. She was out just as quickly as she had skipped in, carrying her leather green purse in one hand, rummaging for her wallet with the other. She was back on the couch beside me, setting her purse on the carpet before yanking out the wallet. An alligator print that matched the green of the bag. Blue green eyes met mine curiously. "How many photos was that?"

I blinked for a moment. Then looked to my camera, silently counted the photos I had just taken as quickly as I could. "Fifty-two."

"Fifty-two times five… That's about…" Her nimble fingers played around in the wallet. Then she seemed to get her math right and pulled out five bills. Two hundreds, three twenties. She snapped the wallet closed, tucked it back in her purse with the bills clutched in her other hand. My eyes followed them the entire time until she was looking back at me, grinning. Slyly.

She leaned into me, rolled the money up, started tucking it into my jeans pocket. Started pressing her lips into my ear, still smiling. Started closing her eyes, moving her lips closer to mine. Couldn't quite breathe, the way she was leaning into me. Very close—

"Uh-uh." And I stopped her before she could put those dragon lips on mine, lifted my free hand and planted it right on her mouth, pushing her away. My voice was a whisper. "Cash only."

I could still feel her grin against the palm of my hand, warm. Almost burning. The blonde's eyes fluttered back open, amused. Staring at me, still, with that playful expression.

I couldn't help but smirk back, just slightly. She really was something else. "I came here to take pictures. Nothing else. So don't even think about it."

The woman leaned back, back into safe territory. Took my hand into both of hers, started tickling it with her fingers. She eyed my palm as she spoke, laughter in her voice. "That's okay." Then the laughter turned into something flirty, suggestive.

"That's perfectly okay. I can wait."

* * *

><p>I dropped by Sonata around four o'clock the next day. Honestly, it was becoming a habit now. Whenever I didn't have other plans after school, it was always the first thing on my mind. Aerith was getting so used to having me drop by on an almost daily basis as opposed to every few weeks that she started saving me a booth and always put a 'Reserved' card on the table with a menu already laid out. (I loved that woman, I really did.)<p>

It had only been four days since I had last been in the tea house, but those few days had felt like forever ago the moment I walked through that door. Aerith had walked out from behind the bar after ringing up a customer's order, had pulled me into a customary hug before sitting down and chatting with me for a little bit. Then she headed back into the kitchen for work. Sora had taken over at the register a little later.

Of course, I snapped pictures of him with my old camera. Didn't even bother hiding it this time, just snapped away at him and others whenever the urge hit me. Every so often the brunette would meet my gaze from the bar, would give me this look that told me he was a little flustered and annoyed at the same time. And maybe amused by my behavior, on some level. Whenever he gave me that look, I couldn't keep from smiling back and snapping another picture just for the hell of it.

_Cute._

Maybe an hour later, maybe a little less than that, things around the tea house slowed down enough for him to have some free time. So he approached my table with a plate of Santa Claus cookies. He took a seat, set the plate down on the table in front of him, beside my old camera. "It's belated, but Merry Christmas."

I leaned my elbows on the table, sizing up each jolly St. Nicholas cookie before grabbing one and taking a bite. "And a Happy New Year."

"So, did you get any good presents?"

You know how when people make small talk with you it's usually a little forced? I wasn't getting that vibe from Sora now. He seemed genuinely interested in what he was asking me, in the answer I would give. He was peering at me with those big blue eyes of his and I had to force myself to tear my eyes away from his face before reaching for my bag. I pulled out the camera Mom had gotten me, my new pride and joy. (I still couldn't believe it was mine, that I could use it as freely as I wanted.) I held the device up cautiously for the boy to see, amused by how his eyes lit up.

"Oh, wow! That looks expensive." And he was reaching out for it, causing me to pull it away from him.

"It is—" I narrowed my eyes. "Don't touch it."

"Can I see?"

"Don't. Break it. Or I'll castrate you." As much as I meant that, I still didn't mind handing it to his outstretched hands. They looked soft…

"You don't know me well enough to threaten me with that," he said with a laugh, a grin. Sapphire eyes ate up the camera's appearance. He fingered the many buttons, started looking through the pictures. He stared at the screen in the same way that Larxene had. Undivided attention, sucked in by what was before him. Awed, in some way. (So I liked to think.)

It was several minutes before he looked back up at me, setting the camera onto the table beside the smaller one. "So… You're, like, really serious about this kind of thing, huh?"

He sounded so impressed that it… It kind of made me happy. A little uncomfortable, but happy.

I shrugged away some of the discomfort, stole another cookie. Tried to keep the smile from crossing my lips. "It's what I do."

"It's pretty cool."

"How's Roxas?"

And as out of the blue as it was, I still asked it. I'd only mentioned the blonde because Friday evening flashed in my head, the day with all the customers, where Sora's friends had first mentioned his brother. I still couldn't believe that asshole had a sibling I knew nothing about, a brother that I hadn't even known existed until a month ago.

I'd only asked about Roxas because part of me was curious and part of me wanted to see how Sora would react. Which was much different than I had expected, the way he blinked at me, the way his expression tightened. It was strange how easily I could read the emotions on his face. "What?"

I went on munching on my cookie, speaking in between mouthfuls. "Roxas. You guys are brothers, right?"

"Are you two friends?"

Ha. "No."

"Oh…"

I fell silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. Sora ended up taking a cookie for himself, nibbling on it as he searched my face. I wondered if I should tell him. If it would make any sort of difference if he knew or not. Probably. Probably not… No, it didn't matter. I was over Roxas…mostly. It wouldn't matter.

Finally I replied, my voice soft. "We used to go out."

And he stared, wide eyed. Blinked. Silent, probably too stunned for words. And I just stared back calmly, pressing a hand to my cheek as I continued to eat. _Too fucking cute._ Then the brunette shook his head, swallowed his cookie. "O…oh? Wait. W..wait, you mean, like… Going out? Like dating?"

"No, I mean like standing outside and staring at the sun until our eyeballs boil. Yes, I mean dating."

"He never…"

"It was on the DL," I explained, silently fuming about that particular fact. And when he gave me a curious look, like he didn't understand, I rolled my eyes and added, "The down low."

"I mean… Wow. He told me he wasn't gay."

I gave an angry snort at that, almost instantly, shaking my head. Of course he would say that. He always said that. Always. Asshole. Idiot. "He's still spouting that bullshit?"

"Yeah." Sora looked down, frowned. "It kind of…kind of pisses me off."

_You and I both_. "Why? 'Cause he's still parading around with his girlfriend?"

"No, because he's…" He trailed off briefly, as if thinking about whether or not he should tell me. Gave in and said it anyway. "He has a new boyfriend, I guess, but he denies it. I know they're going out, though. I just wish—"

"That he'd come out already. Right?" I matched his gaze, frowning. Fighting back the annoyance welling up in me. Fighting back some of the memories that were starting to surface. The first kiss. The first walk out in public with our hands held. The first time…or what would have been the first time, if he hadn't changed his mind at the last minute. (And I hadn't pressured him then, because I would wait… If he didn't want to, didn't feel ready for that step, then I'd wait…) The first time we started drifting apart, around the end of freshman year.

The breakup.

I shrugged again, finishing my second cookie. Shot a fleeting glance at Sora. "Why do you think we broke up?"

He arched a brow, leaning forward a little, voice dropping without him realizing it. "When did you go out?"

"Two years ago. Freshman year."

"For…"

"Eight months. Let's see how long he and his new boy toy last."

And his face dropped then, something…painful. Something I didn't understand at first, not until I thought about it. The way he was staring at me… "Probably a while."

The way he was talking, the tone in his voice… Was he upset about the fact that his brother had some other loser to string along? Or was he upset about who this new loser was? Curiosity took over.

"This guy he's with… What's his name?"

The pained expression didn't leave. "You probably don't know him."

Probably not, but I thought I had an idea who it was. "What's his name?"

The boy was quiet, took another cookie. Glanced around the shop absently. Looked everywhere but at me. Finally he took a slow bite, voice low. "Axel Tunstall."

_I knew it._ Axel. The red head from the party. The red head that Sora must have liked on some level, otherwise he wouldn't be giving me the miserable look he was now. I eyed him thoughtfully. "Axel, huh? You like him?"

"What?"

"Do you like him?"

"I never said—"

"You didn't need to. It's written on your face."

"I…" A blush, very slight. Words left him for a moment before he mustered up some indignation and clenched a hand into a fist. "Why is it your business anyway?"

"I'm just saying," I said with a laugh. Couldn't help it. I took another cookie, eyeballing the other two now sitting by themselves on the plate. "So, what, are they lovey-dovey now?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." I could tell he wasn't making much sense of the situation, that it really did piss him off. And I didn't blame him. If Axel had been someone he cared about… And now he was with his brother? No, I didn't blame him at all. "They have a date on Friday, but I don't care anymore."

Then I got an idea. Why it popped into my head, I'm not sure, but the moment those words left his mouth it came to mind. "Where?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Your brother stole your man. You're just gonna let it go down like that?"

"That doesn't answer the question," he said exasperatedly.

I grinned slyly. "I wanna go and piss him off."

And it was the honest to goodness truth. Necessary? No. Childish? Definitely. Did I care? Hell no. Without much of a reason the desire to annoy Roxas in some way, shape, or form grew inside of me. It reminded almost of New Year's night, when I had texted him about his brother. And now that I thought about it…maybe I shouldn't have sent that text in the first place.

But sometimes I just didn't care.

Sora looked at me with an almost pleading expression. "Don't."

"Not your choice. Where're they going?"

"…A movie."

"Which one?"

"Regal Cinema."

"No, what movie are they seeing?"

"I don't know." He glanced down at the Santa cookies, reached for the plate to take it up. Lightly I swatted at his hand, pulled the plate closer to me before taking another cookie, munching on the face. The brunette sighed, shaking his head. Exhausted, suddenly. "Look, I have to get back to work."

Then he got up from his seat just as some pink-clad customer—some valley girl in a tank top and rosy jeans, a Pepto-Bismol purse in her hand and matching headphones dangling around her shoulders—strolled in towards the register. Sora started heading for the bar. I called him, though, making him stop to face me.

"Sora."

His face was a question mark as he eyed me, as he watched me reach across the table for my new camera. I placed it back in my messenger bag then picked up the other one, fingered the on button. Then I looked up at him, fighting back some of the nervousness that was making my chest tighten. (I didn't get nervous, damn it, so what was the deal?) I looked at him and spoke as calmly as I could. "Come to the movies with me."

"Wh… What?"

"Come out with me on Friday."

"I… I can't. I got plans."

"Cancel them."

"What is your deal with me?"

A good question, really. A very good question. I mean, if I brought him along that would let Roxas know that I knew, right? That I knew about his new little boyfriend and the way he'd basically back stabbed his brother, right? And that was sure to get a rise out of him.

But then, I wasn't asking Sora out because of that. I was, but I wasn't. You know?

So I replied, "I said I found you interesting, didn't I?"

"More or less, sure."

"Yes or no?"

He stared at me with uncertainty, silent. The pink valley girl that had walked in was looking over at us now, waving to catch Sora's attention. "Excuse me."

"Coming ma'am! Sorry!" Then he glanced back at me, frowning. "Look… Yeah, sure, okay?"

Mentally celebrating, I asked, "What's your number?"

"Ask me after my shift ends."

And I did. I waited until he was finished serving the remaining customers, until he had finished cleaning up the tables and packing away leftovers. Then I caught him as he walked out of the building around six-thirty, my bag slung over my shoulder and hands stuffed in my coat pockets. I wasted no time pulling out my phone, asking for the brunette's contact information. His address, because I had never been to Rox's house when we had gone out. Neither of us had ever gone to each other's houses… Part of keeping it on the down low.

Then, when all of that was said and done, I gave a goodbye and a smile. "See you on Friday."

Then I headed on my way, unable to keep my heart from beating excitedly the entire time I walked to the bus stop.

_Way too fucking cute._

* * *

><p>They were wearing the <em>exact<em> same dress today. White sun dresses that flared out to their knees, with yellow rose prints all over them. And lemon colored boots with white belts wrapping around the ankles. Naminé had her hair done up in a bun again, and Kairi had hers pulled up in a ponytail. Both with identical sunflower clips behind their right ears. They even had the same freakin' winter coats hanging from the backs of their chairs.

I _refused_ to believe that this was a mere coincidence.

I eyed Kairi curiously as she went to the lunch line then looked to Naminé who was already seated beside me at the table. She shot back the same look as she pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from her lunch bag. "What?"

I just shook my head. "Your outfits."

"They were on sale yesterday. We thought we'd wear them at the same time."

"I knew it."

"You got any plans for the weekend? I thought we should do something, since you skipped out on us all break."

I paused long enough to pop a fry in my mouth, thoughtful. "Actually… I've got a date on Friday. Movies."

"Wait, so you're going to the movies?"

"Did I stutter?"

"You got a _date_ to the movies?"

"Really," I said with a laugh, "I kinda just said that."

"I wanna see him!"

"See who?" Kairi had returned with her own tray of fries and mac and cheese, seating herself beside her girlfriend. She looked from me to Naminé.

The blonde started bouncing in her seat and beaming, setting her sandwich back down on her lunch bag. "Riku's going on a date to the movies on Friday."

"Nuh-uh." The red head shot blue eyes my way once more, leaning her elbows on the table. "Really? No way."

I sighed, rolling my eyes at the two. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because you hate and intimidate people," was Kairi's reply.

Naminé nodded in agreement. "To be honest, we thought you gave up on love a long time ago. Figured you end up an old spinster taking pictures of little boys down the street."

"Then your neighbors would stop at nothing until your name was on the National Sex Offenders Registry."

I stuck another fry in my mouth, staring at the two with mock indignation. "Gee, thanks you two."

"Seriously, though, can we come with you?"

"Why?"

"I wanna see what he looks like," Naminé repeated, now lifting her sandwich. She took a bite, still smiling. "I wanna see what kind of person he is."

Kairi wiped at the corner of the girl's mouth with her thumb. "Don't talk with your mouth full, sweetie."

"I love how you both assume it's a he."

"Is it?"

"Yeah." _Sort of? _I picked at the food on my tray, thinking back on my talk with Sora the day before. "He's…he's cute. I guess."

"You guess?" Kairi asked.

Naminé grinned, stealing a fry from my tray. "That's code for 'I like him a lot.'"

"Can you guys not put words in my mouth?"

"Oh, Riku!" Kairi clapped her hands together, bouncing in her seat as well. "This is good. I'm happy for you. I mean, I figured you were joking when you said you met someone."

"We barely know each other."

"That's what dates are about," the red head shot back, cocking her head to the side. That silly grin was still on her face. "Getting to know each other."

"We're just gonna scope him out and see if we approve first," Naminé added, causing me to laugh in response and shake my head.

"I look forward to your blessing."

* * *

><p>I was going through another one of those periods where I wanted to be anywhere but home after school. It happened every so often, maybe every month or so. Being in the apartment would just feel like torture, being alone ninety percent of the time would become tiresome. Mom was either at work earlier than usual or hanging around town with some male friend. And if not that, then she was lazing around at home with nothing productive to do. When those periods rolled around, I went to Sonata's then hung around at the public library until nine o'clock. Maybe ten, depending on my mood.<p>

Lately, though, Mom wasn't the reason I tried to avoid coming home. It was her latest boy toy, Greg, who was _always over_ during the evenings. For, like…the past month. I had originally thought he was just, you know…another client. Another customer Mom had to play companion to until he got bored or went broke. But they were actually dating. And he was waiting at home for Mom to get back from work more and more often, was spending the night more and more often. I hated waking up to hear his voice in the kitchen with my mother's. I hated having to wait for him to finish his showers before I could take mine. I hated seeing his face so early in the morning—no, period.

I hated it.

So one can imagine the prick of annoyance I felt when I came home a little later that day only to see him in the living room watching television. In casual clothes, jeans and a red flannel shirt. God, didn't this bum have a job or something? And why the hell had Mom given him a key to the apartment? The one day I decided I actually wanted to come home right after school, and he was still here.

I paused in the doorway to stare at the brunette before sighing and heading for the kitchen. I tossed my backpack by its entrance as I did so. Grabbed myself a glass from the cabinet, filled it with orange juice from the fridge. Came back to the living room and plopped down onto the opposite end of the couch. Far on the opposite end. I didn't look at him as I took a long drink. Then I asked, "Mom's still out?"

He was flipping channels absently. I could feel his amber gaze brush over me briefly before he answered, "She went to work."

"So you know about that now, huh?"

He didn't respond to that, just continued to flip channels. Couldn't seem to find anything on. The man was a little tense. Whether it was because of me or because of the fact that Mom was working, I wasn't sure.

An amused grin crossed my lips. "Does it make you mad?"

"Why should it?"

"She's prancing around playing escort to other men, and that doesn't piss you off?"

Greg gave a mirthless chuckle, finally turning to look me in the eye. Narrowing his own eyes, smirking. "You don't like me, do you?"

"No. I really don't." I finished my juice, set the glass down on the coffee table before turning to face him as well. Crossed my arms. "And, to be honest, I don't know why you keep coming over here."

"I love Molly."

Love. Why did people throw that word around so freely? Why did they us it without ever being one hundred percent sure? "You love her or her ass?"

He opened his mouth to say something, looked pissed. Then, just as quickly, the anger faded away and his features softened. It was a while before he finally spoke again, his voice quiet. "We're not going to get along."

I scowled. "So long as you know that, we're good."

"Then let me tell you one thing."

"What?"

"I'm not looking for some brat's approval. If you can't handle the fact that your mother wants a real man in her life, then that's too bad."

The entire time he said this there was this proud look on his face. Like I would actually _care_ that he seemed to think he was all that and a bag of chips. Like I actually cared that Mom seemed to like him. Like any of that mattered. I just wanted him the hell out of our place.

So I shot back the same look as I rose from my seat with my empty glass in hand. "You know what else is too bad?"

"What?"

I was already heading back into the kitchen. I bent down to grab my bag before I stopped in the doorway to stare back into his curious amber gaze. Then I smirked. "She can't seem to find a real man."

* * *

><p>I skipped out on school Thursday, but still went to Sonata around four to visit Sora. Chatted with him a little bit, discussed how I would catch a bus towards his side of town for Friday with Kairi and Naminé, then we could ask his mom to drop us off at the movies. I was actually getting more nervous around him, now that I thought about it… I couldn't tell you if it was the good or bad kind of nervousness, though.<p>

After catching the bus back from Sonata's, I headed for the Dragon's lair. She'd scheduled another photo shoot, except this time we would be heading outside for the pictures. Some park she wanted to check out. And she had told me to dress nice. Honestly, I think she just wanted to pass off this date as business. Hell, the woman had even given me a spare to her apartment earlier that morning.

I tried not to think about it too much. Instead went straight to her place and let myself in.

There was a man in the living room this time, shirtless. Well, he was putting his shirt on, but the flash of skin still caught me off guard. It was a dress shirt, white, loose on his toned body. Black slacks and matching shoes. Looked like the beginnings of a suit. I walked in through the miniature hallway just enough to examine him from afar and then stopped, met his blue gaze. He had a shock of rosy colored hair, almost shaggy and falling to his shoulders.

What was with all the pretty boys I kept meeting these days, huh?

The man paused momentarily before slipping his arm through the second sleeve. Stared at me as he started buttoning his shirt. Gave a gruff, "Hey."

I shifted from one foot the other, a little uncomfortable. "Hey…"

"Baby, hurry up. You're gonna be late." Larxene scampered out from her bedroom then, her lime bathrobe just barely covering her up. She walked up the pink haired man with a red tie in her hands, threw it around his neck before helping him put it on. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of me, smiled. "Oh. When'd you get here?"

"He just walked in," the man said with a small sigh, fixing her bathrobe as she finished up with his tie.

"We're still on for tonight, right?"

"Yeah. I'll call you."

"Call Xiggy, too. Bastard never answers my calls."

Then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, making her slip her eyes closed, and pulled away. Disappeared into the bedroom briefly before coming back out with a suit jacket hanging over his shoulders and a handbag in his other hand. He shot me one more uncaring look before heading out. I couldn't help but stare after him as he left. Then I shot a questioning stare in Larxene's direction, arching a silver brow.

The woman shot me a grin that rivaled that of the Chesire Cat's, folding her arms. "That was Marluxia."

I was still eyeing her curiously as I approached her, as I set my bag down behind the couch. "Your boyfriend?"

"Fiancé."

I fell silent. Just stared at her, disbelieving. "You're engaged and messing around with an under-aged boy?"

"It's not bad if you don't get caught," the blonde cooed, grin broadening.

"You're shameless."

"Actually, he usually doesn't care."

"Usually?"

"I mess around, he messes around. So long as we don't do it in front of each other, he doesn't care."

That wasn't something someone should be so nonchalant about. That wasn't something to be so proud of, so why was she smiling like that? Why was she so okay with that? I leaned against the woman's couch, trying to make sense of it. "You're swingers?"

"Not technically. But sure, let's go with that."

Here I thought she was just some pedo-bear, and she was actually a mix of that and Mom. No, probably worse than Mom. If that was possible. Figures. "So why me? Why bother with me if you can get someone your own age and not have to worry about him getting upset? At least then you won't end up in jail."

"Why not?"

"Why bother getting married at all if you're just gonna cheat?"

"Sometimes a girl gets bored." She let out a breath, examined me up and down like she was trying to figure something out. Then a look of seriousness crossed her face—not grave, but the playfulness that was there a second ago diminished. "It's better we do it openly now then get caught doing it later and end up divorced. Don't you think?"

"But you'll probably still do it after you get married anyway."

"And if we're both okay with that, then it shouldn't be a problem. Right?"

And she sounded so sure about that, so content with that explanation, that it actually ticked me off. Larxene was a beautiful woman, really. It was just a shame she had an ugly personality.

* * *

><p>I'd spotted Axel right away. The moment we had shuffled into Theater Six—Sora's mom had dropped us off a lot earlier than I had thought she would—I saw the shock of fiery red hair near the front of the theater in spite of the dimmed lighting, along with Xion. And him. Laughing about something or other, quietly. Enjoying themselves.<p>

I didn't understand it, you know? Eight months, nearly an entire year, of going out with that blonde. Eight months of secrecy and meeting up in obscure places where people we knew couldn't see us, where they couldn't get the chance to see us. All the sneaking around, all the effort put into not being seen as a couple in public but rather just as two close friends. And he was sitting so openly next to this red head without a care in the world. Sure, his girlfriend was there, but that didn't count. That didn't fucking count.

I tried ignoring them.

We had found seats a few rows behind them, in a different aisle. Kairi and Naminé, of course, took their seats on the left side of Sora, leaving me on his right. (The girls had given me winks as they did so, smiling.) Then the four of us started chatting quietly as the previews started. Every so often my eyes would glance over to the red head, the blonde, and their dark haired female friend. In spite of myself.

Probably around the third trailer Sora finally noticed the trio as well, frowning. He stared at them long and hard. I glanced at them once more before looking back into the boy's blue eyes. "Jealous?"

He eyed me and whispered back, "Are you?"

And I didn't say anything else, then, because he had hit a nerve. I just took a sip of soda then looked back at the screen.

Maybe I was.

I focused on the movie instead. Wasn't hard, actually. It was a lot better than I had expected. Honestly, the trailers didn't do it justice. Some of the shots on the screen, the angles of the camera, the clarity of the pictures… As breathtaking as they were, I found myself glancing over towards Sora every so often, usually when the brunette was sneaking a handful of popcorn from my bowl. He hadn't wanted his own, hadn't wanted any at all, so I couldn't help but grin in amusement whenever he did it. And sometimes he would meet my gaze, see me smiling, and get this sheepish look on his face. Then he'd tear his eyes away and would look back at the screen.

When the movie had ended we tried to leave the theater quickly, Naminé and Kairi holding hands in front and Sora and I lagging a little behind them. And, lucky me, I got to bump into Roxas. Just briefly. The blonde was ahead of his friends, waiting for them to catch up, but he had bumped into my arm in the process of turning to wait for them. And when he caught sight of me with Sora just inches ahead—the brunette hadn't even seen his brother—the blonde's eyes widened. "Riku… What the hell?"

I didn't even bother giving him a response. Just smirked and gave him the finger while trailing after Sora and the girls.

And we were out and gone before he could even say anything.

We crossed the street to T.G.I.F. after that—fitting, considering it was Friday—and talked while we ordered dinner. Well, Kairi and Naminé did most of the talking. Questions aimed at Sora, mostly, about what he usually did after school or how long he and I had known each other. Why had they never met him before? Did he have any particular colleges in mind after he graduated next year? What majors? Was his hair naturally that spiky? It was, really? How did he manage it? At some point they got to talking about shopping and clothes, and I _swear_ Sora's face lit up in a way I had never seen it light up before. The way he spoke with them, the way he moved his hands, his body… It was all very feminine. The way he was interacting with them was very, very feminine. Huh.

All in all, it had been a good night. Save for my momentary bout of jealousy, it had been a very good night. A great night, I would even venture to say. We even got to talking about doing something like this again when we went outside to wait on the curb. Sora's mother showed up not long after, walking up to us. She was pretty. Curly brown hair that fell down her back, a darker shade than Sora's, same blue eyes. Light freckles peppered her round face. Very pretty… This was the first time I had met her, actually. I knew of her, but I had never met her. She greeted us with a warm smile. "How was it?"

"Amazing!" Kairi answered right away, locking arms with Naminé.

"I can't wait until it's out on DVD," the blonde added with a light laugh.

That just made Sora's mother laugh as well. I caught the amused smile on Sora's face from the corner of my eye. It wasn't long before Kairi's dad rolled up to us in his truck, ready to take the girls home. And he and Mrs. Sabota chatted for a bit before he drove off with Kairi and Naminé waving goodbye to us from the backseat. Those hyperactive boneheads.

That just left the three of us, Sora, his mother, and me. We headed back for the car, climbed in. Sora chose the front seat instead of climbing in beside me. Out of nervousness? I wasn't sure. Then Mrs. Sabota turned to face me once we had all buckled in. "Where am I taking you, sir?"

And I was ready for this question. "There's a bus stop a few blocks away, if you don't mind dropping me off there."

The woman blinked. "Where's your house?"

"I'll just catch the bus."

She frowned, raising an eyebrow. "It's too late for someone your age to be out by himself."

And I didn't think she quite picked up on the fact that I didn't want her to see where I lived. I didn't want anyone to see where I lived because I hated it and wanted out, wanted to be anywhere but there. And I didn't say that I didn't plan on going home right away anyway, that I didn't want to see Mom and Greg's sorry mugs, that I actually wanted to head to the library for a bit before dragging my sorry ass back home. I didn't say that I did this kind of thing often enough for it to be a habit, that Mom didn't really give two shits.

I didn't say any of that and instead replied, "It's fine."

"Are your parents okay with that?"

She really was protective, huh? An extremely motherly mother. Her concern was throwing me off guard. I shrugged, slumped back in the seat and avoided her scrutinizing sapphire eyes. "My mom doesn't really care so long as I get home."

A brief silence where she eyeballed me. Then this look crossed Mrs. Sabota's face, determined. "What's the address?"

"You don't have to—"

"I'm dropping you off. I'm not about to let someone else's child wander the streets at night. What's your address?"

Sora turned to face me then, trying not to let his amusement show. "Don't argue with her. You won't win."

"Darn straight." The woman was still staring at me expectantly.

And it sunk in then. She wasn't going to rest easy until she knew I was home safely. Well damn. So I sighed. "Do you know where Rhine Wood is?"

"Yes."

It didn't take that long for her to find it, to pull up to the curb in front of the building I pointed out to her. Then I was slipping out from the back seat and stepping onto the sidewalk, turning to face them. Sora rolled down his window so I could lean in and smile at his mother. "Thank you, Mrs. Sabota."

"You take care, Riku."

Then I was smiling at Sora. Not as polite, but more… Grateful, I guess you could say. Grateful for the night, even if it wasn't as long as I had hoped. "Later."

And I thought I saw him blush. Maybe. He nodded. "Yeah."

With that, I turned to head up the stairs, dug in my pocket for my apartment keys. I could still hear the car sitting in the background, probably waiting until I was inside before driving off. Even though I hadn't wanted to be home, not yet, I couldn't keep from feeling happy about the whole experience. And I found I didn't really care what Mom and Greg would be doing when I walked inside; it didn't matter right now.

Yeah, tonight had been a good night.

* * *

><p><strong>'Friday was fun! We should ttly do it again sum time.'<strong>

A pause. Then my phone lit up once more.

**'If u want 2..'**

I couldn't help but smile. Glanced up at the board once more to see what Mrs. Belle had moved on to. Something or other about the hypothalamus. I wasn't really listening in psych today. I waited until she was facing the board once more before looking back to my phone hidden underneath the desk, texted Sora back.

**'Any time, any place. U name it.'**

Another long pause. The screen lit up again.

**':3'**

This boy was way too cute for words.

We'd been texting at random intervals all day long, even though it was Monday and we were both in school. I'd just assumed that the brunette had different classes and I was missing him in the hallways as we went about the day, but it turned out he went to a completely different school. Which was a bit of a bummer, but it wasn't that bad. Wondered why he and Rox didn't go to the same school, though…

"Mr. Prioletti, I suggest you put that phone away before I take it," Mrs. Belle said halfway through her sentence, still facing the board with her back to the class. She must have had eyes on the back of her head.

I sighed, ignoring some of the amused stares and snickers from my classmates as I sent Sora one last text. **'g2g'** Then I flipped my phone closed and slipped it in my pocket. "Sorry."

"Thank you sir."

Not long after the sound of the bell filled the classroom, followed by the usual shuffle of feet and rustle of notebooks being shoved into backpacks. We were heading for the door with Mrs. Belle calling behind us, "Read the next chapter tonight."

I headed straight for my locker, ready to put my things away, get what I needed, then head to my last class. The blonde was waiting for me this time, leaning against my locker. Arms crossed. Scowling. Oh boy. Could you say that part of me was glad to see him so pissed off? Yes, you could definitely say that.

He wasted no time beating around the bush when I approached him. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"He's five and half feet tall and standing right in front of me…" I sighed, rolling my eyes at him. Fighting back the amusement. "Can I help you?"

"Why were you with Sora on Friday?"

_Why the hell should it matter to you? Eh? I can't hang out with who I want to?_ Instead of going off on him, I calmly replied, "Same reason you're with Axel. To get in his pants."

"I'm not…" Blue eyes narrowed even more than before. He pushed himself away from the locker, glaring up at me. "How do you—"

"A little birdy told me." I didn't bother looking at him anymore, just rolled in my combination and opened the locker. Started emptying the books I didn't need into it before pulling out what I did, careful not to crush the new camera that sat tucked in the corner of my bag. "Are we done?"

"Hell no." I was already slamming the locker closed, though, already pushing past him. He stopped me with a yell, grabbed my arm. "I'm fucking talk to you!"

"Then spit it out, already. I've got a class to go to."

"Don't. Screw. _Around_ with him."

He was really getting upset over this. Huh. I mean, he _really_ looked upset. Was it because he hadn't wanted anyone to know about Sora? Because he had worked so hard to make sure no one knew? Or was it because it was me? Was it because it was me, of all people, trying to get close to his sibling as opposed to someone else? Maybe it was the fact that I had gotten a good look at his new boyfriend, that I had seen the two of them together. Who knew? I looked back at the shorter male, gave him a hard stare. My voice was just as low. "Or else what?"

"I mean it."

"You jealous?"

"The hell I am."

"Look, _Roxy_," I spat out, yanking my arm free before poking him hard in the chest. "I can screw around with whoever I want. Apparently you think you can do the same. So there's no problem."

"Riku." And I fell silent then, because the tone of his voice threw me off guard. The way his features softened threw me off guard. I could feel the eyes of a few other passing students looking at us, but that didn't matter. The boy clenched his hand into a fist, raised it to thump me on the chest. "Don't you dare hurt him."

I blinked. Quiet. Then, finally, I replied, "You've already got that covered, don't you?"

The blonde looked at me like he was shocked. Like he didn't know how I found out or when, but it was clear he hadn't wanted me to know. I just shook my head at him, letting out a breath.

"I won't walk in your shoes, and you don't walk in mine. Alright?"

"I swear, Riku…"

"I'm gonna be late to class. Are we done here?"

"I fucking swear, Riku."

That was all he said before he sighed and pushed past me.

* * *

><p>I hadn't been able to go to Sonata for the entire week, mainly because Larxene scheduled a series of shoots every day since Monday. She would be too busy the next week, so she wanted to get the pictures out of the way. Seriously, I didn't know where the woman got the money she gave me. I was making over two hundred every day. I saved it, put it in a safe box I had bought with some of the money she gave me. Code activated, so no one would be able to stick their grubby paws inside…<p>

With all the shoots, I found I didn't really have time to drop by Sonata before it was time for it to close. So I was happy when I had that Friday free and decided to visit the tea house after school. What I wasn't happy to see was a depressed looking Sora.

He was in the kitchen for most of the time, with Aerith at the register, but the few times he came out I could see the look on his face. The sadness in his eyes. He put on a cheerful front whenever speaking with Aerith or to some customer, but I saw right through it.

_The hell…?_

The look didn't suit him. Not at all. I didn't even bother taking pictures of the boy, just sat at my booth and eyed him curiously the entire time until his shift was about to end. I watched him wipe down the tables. It wasn't until he got to a rounded table beside mine that I caught his attention. "You look a little down."

"I'm fine," he said quietly, avoiding my gaze.

I didn't say anything for a moment. Examined him carefully. "Do you do that often?"

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine when you're not? It's a bad habit."

He looked up at me then, lips pressed into a thin line. Eyes a little cold. "I'm not in the mood, okay."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. No…" He gripped the washcloth in his hand tightly, pressed it against the table's damp surface. Looked like he was about to say one thing. Shook his head and said something else instead. "It's not you, something else."

I didn't like how tense he looked. Didn't like it at all. Before I knew it I was getting up from my seat, slipping my bag over my shoulder. "Walk with me."

"Huh?"

"Your shift's about to end, right?"

"Yeah."

"Walk with me for a little bit." He gave me wary stare, which just made me smile reassuringly. "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

"You… You don't mind waiting?"

"No."

"Okay."

Then I was out the door, waiting on the sidewalk for him. His apron was dangling over his shoulder when he came out, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and unbuttoned. Tanned hands tucked in his pockets. And we started walking, slowly, down the sidewalk. Towards the bus stop I usually caught home. (Needed a car. I really did. Couldn't wait until I could swap in my permit for a license.)

We were silent for a long while until Sora looked up at me and quietly asked, "Do you have any new pictures?"

I dug out my new camera—that was usually the one I used nowadays—carefully handed it to him. His expression brightened up a bit as he skimmed through the pictures. A majority of them were of Larxene. Still. Some new ones of the park across from Rhine Wood. The forest behind it. Some of Kairi and Naminé at the lunch table.

Sora never tore his eyes away from the screen. "Riku, you're really good at this…"

"You think?"

"I think you should do it for a living."

"I want to." They felt nice, his comments. Contentment washed over me as I took the camera back from his outstretched hands. I flipped through some of the pictures myself, glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You got a plan for life?"

"No." A shrug. He thought about it a moment, then sighed. Stuffed his hands back in his pockets and kicked a pebble in front of his feet. "I mean, I want to go to college. Get a job. But I really don't know what I want to _do_, you know?"

"Yeah."

"I think, maybe, cooking. But that's just 'cause I can't think of anything else right now."

"Well, you got a good five years to figure it out."

"As my mom would say, those five years will breeze by before I know it."

I chuckled at that, thinking back on last week. Opened up my messenger bag to place the camera back inside. "Your mom's nice."

"When she wants to be…" He muttered, so quietly that I almost thought I had imagined it.

I eyed him questioningly. "What?"

"Nothing."

And the silence again. It was quiet save for the sound of cars passing us by in the streets, of shoes against cement as people crossed those streets or walked by us on the sidewalk. I could hear Sora breathing, slow, like he was trying to calm himself. Smiled when his blue eyes met mine then flitted away. Couldn't help it. Something was still bothering him, though, I could tell. Something was on his mind and he wasn't saying anything, and it was starting to make me a little worried. Was he really not mad at me? Or did I do something to make him upset and he was just keeping quiet about? I couldn't remember…

"Riku." I looked over at the brunette, matched his uneasy stare. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"About the first time we met… Well, I think it was the second time, actually."

"What is it? Spit it out."

"When you said 'Takes different to know different…' What did you mean?"

"I meant that…" Oh man. That had been a while ago. But still… My voice trailed as I thought about what to say. I let out a breath. "Well, I know."

Blue eyes narrowed. "Know what?"

"There… There was a party a few weeks ago at a club called Myst. I saw a girl there, beautiful. Noticed her from halfway across the room and couldn't take my eyes off. I never talked to her, though, because she left with some guy." I watched his face, gauging his reaction. Serious, now, because the same look he had had in the tea house was crossing his face once more. Realization. Grim realization, I noticed. "And ever since I haven't been able to get her face out of my head."

He swallowed. "Is…is that right?"

"I recognized your face, Sora."

And he stopped walking altogether, just stood in the middle of the walkway with that look on his face. I didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. And he wasn't really looking at me, not really at anything, but staring off into space with a frown on his pretty face. "Sora?"

"I'm… I need to head home."

He said this, but didn't move right away. Hands tense in his pockets. I watched him carefully, worried by the softness of his voice. "I'll walk with you."

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"I want to walk by myself."

"Wait." He turned in the opposite direction, ready to leave. I stopped him, grabbed his arm, causing him to spin around to face me. "Sora, wait—"

"Let me go."

"I'm not going to hurt you, you know. I'm not like him."

His eyes were ice cold now, practically glaring at me. Venom in his voice. It scared me, really. That wasn't… This wasn't how he was supposed to be acting. This wasn't how Sora acted. "What?"

I shook my head, furrowed my brows. "Axel. I'm not going to lead you on like he did. I won't hurt you like he and Roxas did."

"You don't know me, so how can you say something like that?" He tried pulling himself free now, had pulled his hands from his pockets so he could do so. Tugged to no avail, because I tightened my grip on him. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"Then give me the chance to get to know you."

"Why do you like me so much, huh? What am I to you?"

And then I asked myself, _Why?_ Why did I care so much? What was it about him that made me so interested? Sure, I was curious about his habit. I didn't get it. I wanted to see more of it, learn more about it. And yes, part of my reason for getting so involved was to piss off his brother. Petty, childish, I know. But it worked, obviously, otherwise the blonde wouldn't have approached me the way he did days before… But it was more than that. Something I couldn't pinpoint or explain that drew me to Sora.

Maybe I did like him. Maybe I did.

I couldn't say that, though, found that something was keeping me from saying it out loud. "I really… I really don't know."

"What do you want from me?" The brunette tugged again, pressing his other hand to mine. Trying to pry my fingers off. He was getting worked up now, close to snapping. "Are you just interested because I dress up, because you think I'm a freak? Because I'm different?"

"No."

"Or is it just because I'm Roxas' brother and you want to get back at him?"

"No. I… I don't know."

"Then let me go."

I didn't want to…

"I said. Let. Me. Go."

And I did, because I didn't like the sharp tone of voice he was using with me. Didn't like the way he was staring at me, the way he was physically and emotionally pulling away. And he started heading down the way we had come.

"Hey."

He stopped at my call, turned around with a vexed expression. "What?"

"The bus stop is this way."

"…"

"You do ride the bus home, right?"

"…A different one."

"Walk with me." And when he didn't move or say anything, I gave him this look. Pleaded with him. "Sora, please."

He eyed me up and down. He eyed me for a long time. Angry. Hurt for some reason I didn't quite understand. No…no, that was a lie. I understood. But still. Then, with a sigh, he crossed his arms and stared at his feet. Slowly started walking towards me again.

"Fine."


	8. Doo Wop

**Sora; Some Guys, Some Guys Are Only About That Thing**

He held it in for four days.

Friday night, nothing. Just this look that told me that he knew. When did he find out? I'm not sure, but it was clear that he had seen me with his ex.

Saturday he was out with Axel for most of the day. And when he got home he was so quiet and reserved that Ma had asked him what was wrong. To no avail, of course. He'd just given the flimsy excuse that he was tired and went to bed early.

Sunday he kept himself busy with last minute school work. Played with Sadie. Called some of his friends. He was on the phone with Xion a pretty long time…didn't sound too good, actually.

Then, today, he just decided to let it out.

"Why were you with Riku on Friday?"

And I had known that the question was coming, had anticipated it the moment the blonde strolled into my bedroom that evening after he got back from school. After I had gotten back from work and showered and settled myself at my desk to start homework. I had my headphones on, listening to something or other—I usually didn't pay attention to it when I did homework, just needed the background noise—on a low volume. So I had heard him when he came in and when he asked his question. I had heard the click of the door as he shut it behind him and eyed me questioningly.

I didn't move from my desk. Shot a fleeting glance at him before looking back down at the worksheet in front of me. Didn't even bother taking out my headphones. No, I just calmly replied, "To see a movie."

"The exact same one Axel, Xion and I went to see?"

"Coincidence."

"Bull, Sora."

He didn't let things go. Roxas never let things go, and that was one thing about my brother that drove me crazy. Especially when I was supposedly in the wrong. Often, I was in the wrong. Why couldn't he just let things go?

I finally looked at him, gave him a hard stare, as I yanked out my headphones and set them on my desk. "There aren't many new movies out that look good. So we picked one of the few that did. Sorry if we offended you by planning a group outing on our own time."

The blonde had his arms crossed, was shaking his head as he took steps towards me. Beside me, now. "How long have you known him? When'd you meet?"

I was about to tell him roughly a month. I was going to tell him that we had met at Sonata, that Riku being his ex was purely coincidence. That me _finding out_ that Riku had been his ex was purely coincidence—and, still, I wouldn't say anything about it to Ma. But then I stared long and hard into Roxas' face and got fed up. I shook my head and got fed up, rose from my seat. Pointed towards the door. "Get out of my room."

"What?"

"I'm not about to sit here and be interrogated for no good reason," I spat out, shifting my weight to one foot. Fighting the _urge_—no, the need—to hit my brother. Our blue eyes were narrowed. "I made new friends. I wanted to hang out with those friends. I've left you and Axel alone and went and did my own thing. I have my own _life_ Roxas. I have my own life and I'm moving on with it, and if that's a problem for you then oh well. Now get. The fuck. Out."

I could see the shock on his face when I had let the F-bomb fly. To be honest, I was a little shocked too. But you know what? I was pissed. Sometimes things slipped out when I was upset, so I didn't really care.

Rox just continued to shake his head, this pained look crossing his face. He reached out for my shoulders, shook me a little. "You can't see he's using you?"

"Get out before I hurt you, Roxas," I snapped, pulling away.

"Why the hell do you think he's interested in you in the first place, Sora?" Anger, now. The somewhat civil tone he had tried to maintain slipped away completely. "You don't find it strange that some random guy suddenly takes a liking to you, some guy you've never met before?"

"Because that just KILLS you, doesn't it?" My throat hurt. All this screaming… But I didn't stop. Couldn't. He'd pushed too far. "Because you can't _stand _the thought that, maybe, someone actually LIKES me! What, are you gonna steal him back from me too?"

"This isn't about me and Axel."

"Then what _is_ it about, Rox? Why can't I have anything? Why can't I _have_ anything without you being so mad at me all the time, Roxas?"

"He… He called you a tranny, Sora."

W… What? No. What?

That one word had shut me up completely, had brought the sting of tears to my eyes. And the way Roxas was staring at me now told me that he had meant it. That it was the truth and it hurt him just as much as it hurt me. But, no… Riku wouldn't…

Riku was nice. He was _nice_ to me, so he couldn't have. He wouldn't. He wasn't…he wasn't like Axel. He wasn't like Axel and Roxas, he wasn't… So Roxas had to be lying.

But the boy went on. His voice was soft now, so soft, and he gently took my hands in his. Held them. Looked at me with this determination. Indignation. "He called you a tranny. He's not doing this because he likes you, he's doing it because you're my brother and he wants to get some cheap laughs from leading you on. He's doing it because he's Riku and that's what Riku does. You know what he said to me today? That he's trying to get in your fucking pants, Sora."

I didn't say anything. Felt my bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. Had to bite it to keep it still. My eyes still stung…

Roxas sighed. "You don't believe me?"

I didn't say anything. I didn't.

The blonde let go of my hands, dug into his pocket. Pulled out his phone. He flipped it open, clicked through whatever was on the screen. I just watched him quietly. Then he held it up for me to see. His text messages. Wha…

"Look at this text he sent me."

…

'**Met him. U 2 r complete opposites.'**

'**And?'**

'**Is he a tranny?'**

…

Riku…was nice. He wouldn't…

"When did…" Shakily, I took the phone. Read through the texts again. All of the conversation, from beginning to finish. It was so short, and yet… I thought, maybe, Roxas was trying to pull a fast one over me. But no. That was Riku's number. That was Riku's number beside the texts. Tranny… "W-when did he send this to you?"

"New Year's."

Last week. Not so long ago. But… "You're lying."

"Sora—"

"Just get out." And I shoved the phone back in my brother's hand, turned my head so he wouldn't see the tears slipping from my eyes. "Please, get out."

"Don't see him anymore, Sora."

"I said get out!"

And he threw his arms up and gave an aggravated sigh. The moment of truce was gone. The moment for him to keep caring was gone and he stomped over towards the door, yanked it open. "Don't cry to me when he breaks your fucking heart."

"Like you fucking broke his?"

He screamed. Then he slammed the door closed and was gone.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Sonata Tea House. How may I help you?"<p>

"Ms. Gainsborough."

"Oh, hello Sora. You're calling in today?"

"Is it okay if I take the rest of the week off?"

"…Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Something personal came up, though, so I don't think I can come to work."

"Well that's fine. You take as long as you need, and call me the day before you come back in."

"Yes ma'am."

"Sora?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay… Feel better."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>I stopped texting Riku after Roxas' explosion on Monday. It had only been two days, but it felt like forever… He didn't try to contact me, either, so I figured he probably didn't think anything was up. Or maybe he was busy with other things. That. Or he didn't care.<p>

Who knew?

I didn't know what to think. Still didn't. Didn't know what to do with myself. So I took the time I had free after school and dressed up. Went out while dressed up. I hadn't done it in so long that it felt like a release. A very long awaited, needed release.

I went all out with it, too.

When I got home from school on Wednesday I flattened my hair and wore it in a shoulder length bob. I didn't want to go with the wig this time, no. Chose to wear my hair natural. Part of it was pinned behind my right ear with a white bow clip I had bought years back and rediscovered in the bottom of my trunk. I pulled out one of my three blouses, a yellow one with thin vertical white stripes, with a ruffle down the chest. Placed the silicon forms in my bra. There was a frilled white mini skirt that matched my top perfectly, so I slipped that on along with my white heels. I used some of Ma's amber eye shadow, some blush and gloss. Swiped a lipstick. Then I grabbed my black purse, filled it with my wallet, my phone, a book to read on the bus. And I went out by myself.

The mall was my first stop. Specifically 5-7-9. I had money saved up, so I wanted to splurge. I bought a new pair of boots, the same brown as my hair. A silver necklace made up of small circles. A white scarf that I wrapped right around my shoulders the moment I caught sight of it. A brown belt that was loose but not to the point where it couldn't hang against my hips without being slipped through belt loops. All of this I wore out of the store with my outfit. My other shoes were in the bag that came with the clothes.

Before long I found myself in the food court, sitting by myself sipping a smoothie while watching others walk by. There weren't a whole lot of people, really, but there were enough to produce a dull chatter in the pristine court. I just sat and relished the thought that no one could notice, you know? No one noticed my disguise and they accepted it, and it felt amazing. It really did.

I think, right when I got to thinking about that, that's when they had spotted me. Two guys maybe a couple years older than me. Maybe seniors in high school. Or freshmen in college. They were just tables away, eyeing me every now and then. Really eyeing me. And it made me uncomfortable.

One of them had rather spiky dark hair that rivaled Axel's. Except he had the lone bang that hung by the right side of his angled face. His friend sat across from him, blonde hair fashioned in a way that reminded me of Roxas. Both with the same jeweled toned blue eyes. Cute. The dark haired one was smiling knowingly at the blonde, glancing over at me as he spoke excitedly. The blonde was shooting nervous looks at the other male then and me, obviously annoyed by whatever it was friend was saying. I couldn't help but arch a brow at the two of them. What were they…?

Then the dark haired one, the taller one, was out of his seat and heading over in my direction. Something was clutched in his hand. What was he…? Maybe they had figured it out, huh? Maybe they saw through the disguise, maybe they wanted to have some cruel fun at my expense? Maybe it was a mistake for me to come out dressed in the first place, _especially_ by myself. I couldn't tell.

So I was on alert when he approached, when he slid into the seat across from me. Still smiling. It was a nice smile, but still. I stayed calm, spoke with my pitch altered. (I wished I didn't have to alter anything about my voice…) "Can I help you?"

"Name's Zack," he said warmly, glancing over at his friend. Nodded in the blonde's direction. "That bozo over there?"

I looked over at said "bozo," slightly amused by how he gave a timid wave then turned his attention back to his food. Still confused, I looked up at Zack. "What about him?"

"He thinks you're cute. We both do," he added. "But, you know, I kinda got a girl already and he doesn't. So he wanted me to give you this."

And he held out his hand, uncurled it. Held out the slip of paper that was in his palm. I spotted numbers, a name scribbled beside them. **Cloud.**

Then it dawned on me that they hadn't figured it out, that they weren't about to play some prank. This guy was giving me his friend's number. (Probably against the blonde's will, now that I thought about it.)

I just smiled nervously, took the slip of paper. Gave a quiet, "Oh… Um, thank you."

"Call him sometime. He won't admit it, but he's really shy 'round girls."

I laughed. "Well, he's lucky to have a straight forward friend like you."

Zack winked at me then got up and walked back to his table, shooting his friend two thumbs up as he did so. I could spot the deep blush on said friend's face, couldn't help but laugh to myself when he met my eye once again. I pulled my phone out of my purse and punched the number into my contacts. Pleased. Happy. I wasn't going to call him. Most likely not. But the fact that he had asked—or, in this case, had sent his friend to ask—made my stomach do cartwheels.

I was a girl. I was a girl out in public, getting hit on by random guys. Guys who looked at me and saw me as the girl I was, who treated me like the girl I was. I was a girl. I looked like it, felt like it. I was.

Then I grew solemn when I thought about it some more. Thought about how none of this would be happening if my makeup was gone and I was wearing my street clothes. Thought about how no one would spare me a second glance and think "How pretty is she?" if Sora the boy was out by himself sipping a smoothie. No cute boys would try to slip me their number, and if they did it would be because they were attracted to other boys. They would only come because I was in guy mode, and if we ever got involved with each other…if they ever found out that I didn't see myself as a guy, they wouldn't get. They just wouldn't get it at all.

Then I got to thinking about Axel. About Riku. About Roxas' warning. I thought about all of this, frowned, and then let out a deep breath.

_Is he a tranny?_

He wouldn't say that. How could he say that? And then act all friendly, act like he actually cared? How could people be so two-faced like that? How could people lie like that? I didn't understand it. Him. Roxas. And Axel.

Gathering my things, I rose from my seat and headed over to Zack and Cloud. Took in the pleased yet surprised expressions on both of their faces when I asked them, "Do you guys mind if I hang out with you for a bit?"

And Zack nudged his friend on the shoulder, smirking. "Told you she was interested."

And Cloud just rolled his eyes, muttered, "Shut up."

Then they got up, greeted me properly. Said they were just about to head out, about to go cheer on Cloud's cousin at her lacrosse game at school. It would be half an hour before they were supposed to start, but did I want to come?

"There's always room for a pretty face," Zack said with a laugh.

And I laughed back, smiled at Cloud who actually was as shy as his friend had said. I smiled and nodded and said, "If you guys don't mind."

The blonde shook his head. "Not at all."

Then we left. And even though it would be a one time thing, even though it would be short-lived, even though it was just a distraction for the time being, even though I knew that this couldn't last because things would fall apart when they found out the truth—I went with them, determined to enjoy myself. In spite of everything.

Because I would be damned if I let some lying, cheating back stabbers get the best of me.

* * *

><p>"I'm missing lipstick."<p>

"W…wha?"

"One of my lipsticks is missing, Sora."

I sat up in my bed, looked at my mother. The woman had just burst into the room, had switched the bedroom light on and shocked me out of my slumber. It took me a moment to collect myself, to stifle my yawns enough before I glanced at my clock. Eleven fifty-six. Groggily I glanced back over at Ma. She was still dressed up in business clothes, except she didn't look tired. No, in fact she looked like she was about to head out somewhere.

I yawned again. "Where're you going?"

"I have a meeting with a few other professors tonight," she said shortly, gripping the doorknob. Pink lips pressed thin into a scowl. "Tell me why one of my lipsticks is missing."

"I dunno."

"Don't play this game with me, Sora."

"Why do you assume I have it?"

"Because you're the only one who would have taken it." She paused. A long time. Long enough for me to slip out of my bed, for me to rub at my eyes and make myself more alert. It was going on midnight… Ma's voice grew soft. Tight. Like she was having a hard time getting her words out. "I thought we agreed that you'd stop."

I blinked. Bit back my response before changing my mind and saying it anyway. "I didn't agree to anything…"

"You really want to do this with me right now?"

_You're the one that came in my room and woke me up. You're the one picking the fight. Why is everyone in this family always picking fights?_ I gave an aggravated groan. Walked over to my closet, still tired. Cracked the door open just slightly so she couldn't see my purse tucked away in the corner—I had tossed it there after Zack and Cloud had been kind enough to drop me off earlier today. I was careful not to let the woman see the bag as I searched around inside of it. Found the lipstick I had borrowed. I should have snuck it back earlier, but it had completely slipped my mind… This shouldn't have been an issue, but it was. Everything was always an issue.

With a frown, I walked up to Ma and held it out. "Here."

And she snatched the lipstick from me, gave me a look. "Don't go through my makeup anymore."

Then she turned and left without shutting the door. I shoved it closed myself before crawling back into bed.

I needed out of this house.

* * *

><p>By Friday I had decided enough sulking was enough and it was time to get back to work. I knew I had asked for the rest of the week off, but I needed something to do after school. Couldn't hang out with my friends—they were all too busy for much of anything until the weekend rolled around. I had talked on the phone to Cloud for a little bit the day before, but it wasn't for very long. Didn't want to stay in the house. Roxas and Ma were pissing me off. Just looking at them, just <em>thinking<em> about them pissed me off. I didn't know why, I just knew that if I stayed in that house longer than necessary I would flip my lid.

So I called Ms. Gainsborough after school, apologized for not giving her a day's notice like she had asked, and asked if it would be okay for me to come in today. Luckily for me the woman was sweet. Luckily for me she was one of the sweetest people I had ever met.

"You come on down whenever you're ready, sweet pea."

And I did. As soon as I'd changed into my work clothes after school. I needed out of the house. I _needed_ something to do. Even then I couldn't get everything off of my mind. I couldn't get Riku off of my mind. Not when I walked into Sonata. Not when I forced a smile at Ms. Gainsborough and promptly started cooking in the back. Not while I switched in between that to take customers' orders.

I tried, I really did, but I couldn't get him or that stupid text out of my mind. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he was there. Right on time, right around four, sitting at his usual booth.

I was grateful to be in the kitchen a majority of the time.

The platinum haired teen would watch me carefully the few times I came out. No pictures this time. He was concerned, I could see, but I tried not to meet his gaze.

What was I supposed to do around him? How did I act? What did I say? Should I even say anything? Why…why couldn't things be easy? Not everything, no, because life isn't easy. But some things, things like this. Was I not worthy of that? Why?

I had hoped he would leave—which was wishful thinking—but he stuck around until it got close to the end of my shift. I was wiping down tables quickly, ready to leave myself. When I got to the one beside him, though, he caught my attention. "You look a little down."

And I didn't look him in the eyes, kept wiping down the rounded table in front of me. "I'm fine."

He was quiet for a moment. Examining my face carefully. And I wanted him to stop. Didn't want him to look at me, not with those eyes. I wanted him to leave because I couldn't get that text out of my head… "Do you do that often?"

"Do what?"

"Say you're fine when you're not? It's a bad habit."

Frowned. Looked up at him, my chest tightening. "I'm not in the mood, okay."

"Are you made at me?"

"No. No…" _Yes. No. I don't know…_ I really didn't know. I felt my fingers tighten against the washcloth pressed to the table. Maybe I should spill it, spill everything Roxas had told me. But then what? Would he deny it? Would he fess up to it? And if he did…then what? What did I do? Did I just stop being his friend, did I just ignore the good feeling he gave me? I barely knew him, but I couldn't just ignore that feeling. You don't just ignore that feeling. Do you?

Shaking my head I said, "It's not you, something else."

And I knew he wasn't buying it because he got quiet again. Sized me up. Then he was getting up from his seat, slipping his messenger bag over his broad shoulder. "Walk with me."

"Huh?"

"Your shift's about to end, right?"

"Yeah."

"Walk with me for a little bit." And the look on my face must have betrayed what I was really feeling, because he shot me a reassuring smile. God, I loved that smile… Why did I love that smile? "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to."

I didn't. Really. But I did. What did I do? What was I supposed to do? "You… You don't mind waiting?"

"No."

And in spite of myself, in spite of everything…I gave in. "Okay."

Then, a little later, we were both out of the shop and heading down the sidewalk. The opposite direction from where I usually went, but I figured it would be okay so long as I caught a bus heading towards my neighborhood later. My apron was dangling over my shoulder, and I had unbuttoned and rolled up my sleeves because I suddenly felt hot. Very hot. Tucked my hands in my pockets, never really looking directly at Riku. Trying hard not to get sucked into those eyes again.

And there were uncomfortable moments of silence. I asked about his pictures, skimmed through them when he relinquished his camera to me. The boy was talented. I'd give him that. And this mystery blonde woman he had so many photos of… Who was she, I wondered? She was gorgeous.

Then I gave him back his camera and we talked a bit about college, about school, about plans for life in general. We talked and some of the tenseness I had felt from before, some of the discomfort, melted away. And I told him how I really didn't know what I would do in life, how I didn't know how to narrow it down to one path.

"Well, you got a good five years to figure it out."

He was right, but I still replied, "As my mom would say, those five years will breeze by before I know it."

The teen chuckled, placing his camera back in his bag as he did so. "Your mom's nice."

"When she wants to be…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

And the silence again. Cars drove by at a steady thirty miles per hour in the street beside us. Other individuals out for a stroll passed us on the sidewalk, heading in the opposite direction. It smelled nice out. Felt nice. Warmer than was usually this time of January. Then I remembered it was Friday the thirteenth and fought back a mirthless laugh at the irony of it all.

Today wasn't a good day. It just wasn't meant to be. I'd wanted it to be, but it wasn't. I was restless. That was the thing. And nothing I did, not work, not school assignments, not talking to friends, not dressing up—none of that was going to fix it. I needed something else. Something more.

I got to thinking about the text again, about Rox's outburst on Monday. Glanced at Riku just to see him look back and shoot me another smile, but I looked away.

How could someone be so nice to you—

And not mean it.

How could someone string you along so carelessly—

And, regardless of the fact, you still want to get close to them.

You still want to like them.

You want them to like you. For who you are.

How could you feel that way about someone like that? Why would God make it like that?

"Riku." And he looked over at me, took in my uneasy stare. Undivided attention. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"About the first time we met… Well, I think it was the second time, actually."

"What is it? Spit it out."

And I did, because what came out of my mouth was the first thing that popped into my head. It was the first thing that came to mind and I said it, because how do you word something like how I was feeling? "When you said 'Takes different to know different…' What did you mean?"

"I meant that…" His voice trailed, and I knew. I already knew where he was going, but I needed to hear it from his mouth anyway. He let out a breath. "Well, I know."

"Know what?"

"There… There was a party a few weeks ago at a club called Myst."

No…

"I saw a girl there, beautiful. Noticed her from halfway across the room and couldn't take my eyes off."

No…

"I never talked to her, though, because she left with some guy."

No, no…

"And ever since I haven't been able to get her face out of my head."

Damn it, Riku. Damn it. God damn it, Riku…

I swallowed. "Is…is that right?"

"I recognized your face, Sora."

And I stopped walking altogether, just stood in the middle of the walkway because this was reminding me very much of Axel. Gave me the same sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, like that night at the party. And I wondered… If he had seen me then, how long had he known I had worked at Sonata? Had he followed me there? Purposely made it seem like a coincidence so that he could weasel his way close to me all the while pissing off my brother in the process? Was that it, then?

"Sora?"

I didn't want to look at him right then. "I'm… I need to head home."

Why was my voice so soft? It kind of hurt… He watched me with a concerned expression, practically melting my heart. _Don't pretend like you care. Please…_ "I'll walk with you."

"No."

"What's wrong?'

"I want to walk by myself."

"Wait." I was turning to leave, though, ready to call it a day. But he grabbed onto my arm, made me spin around to face him with a hard stare. "Sora, wait—"

"Let me go."

"I'm not going to hurt you, you know. I'm not like him."

And that was like a slap in the face because it was a lie. It was all a lie and he was still going along with it like I was stupid. This was all wrong. All wrong, because he _was _hurting me and didn't even realize it. I was glaring at him now, and it threw him completely off guard. "What?"

He shook his head, knit his brows together. "Axel. I'm not going to lead you on like he did. I won't hurt you like he and Roxas did."

Damn. Riku, damn.

"You don't know me, so how can you say something like that?" Tried pulling myself free, tugged and tugged. But he just tightened his grip on my arm. "You don't know the first thing about me."

"Then give me the chance to get to know you."

"Why do you like me so much, huh? What am I to you?"

He didn't know what to say to that. Thought about it for a long time. I could see him trying to figure it out, trying to piece together some sort of response. And his hand was hot on the exposed skin of my arm, almost burning. And I just watched him, waiting. Finally he admitted, "I really… I really don't know."

"What do you want from me?" I tugged again, this time pressing one of my hands to his. Tried to pry his fingers away. Too hot… It was hurting me. "Are you just interested because I dress up, because you think I'm a freak? Because I'm different?"

"No."

"Or is it just because I'm Roxas' brother and you want to get back at him?"

"No. I… I don't know."

"Then let me go."

He didn't.

"I said. Let. Me. Go."

Then he did. I think I startled him with the tone of my voice, with the cold stare I was giving him. And I pulled away and turned to leave once more.

"Hey."

I stopped. As much as I wanted to keep going, I stopped. Turned to look at him. "What?"

"The bus stop is this way."

"…"

"You do ride the bus home, right?"

"…A different one."

"Walk with me." It was the way he said it this time that made me second guess myself. Pleading, his tone. "Sora, please."

I eyed him up and down. I eyed him for a long time. Angry. Hurt for a reason he would never understand, not fully. Then, with a sigh, I crossed my arms and stared at my feet. Slowly started walking towards him. Mentally kicking myself because I knew that I knew better. But I went with him anyway.

"Fine."

* * *

><p>There was a park across the street from his apartment complex. More like a playground. A decent size, considering how small his building looked from a distance. A rainbow colored slide set with monkey bars, tunnels attached for kids to worm their ways through. A trampoline that came up to my ankle. Some funky animal shaped plastic statues, a little taller than Riku, that could be climbed on. A snail, a bear, a dog. A sandbox with some toys still buried in damp looking sand. Some rotating device that did just that, rotate—I actually remember playing on those things when I was little. I'd hang onto the bars while someone else spun me round and round, then I'd hang on for dear life squealing and trying not to get sick…<p>

We settled for the swings off to the corner. There was no one around this time of day, so it was just us. Just quiet.

I didn't know why I'd followed him to his bus stop. I didn't know why I'd climbed on board and rode home with him. I really didn't know. But I was here, and we had been quiet the entire time because I refused to say anything. And he still hadn't said anything. So we were just silent and sitting on the swings, side by side, gently rocking back and forth and staring anywhere but at each other. He was facing one direction while I faced the other. Felt close… A light breeze kicked up, shuffling some burnt orange and yellow leaves around in the grass.

I didn't get this. I don't think he did, either, but I definitely didn't get this.

"What did he say to you?" Riku asked after a while. Calm. I felt calm too, much better than I had before.

I let out a sigh. "He showed me the text you sent him."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

It got quiet again. I rocked a little in my swing, rocked my feet back and forth slowly.

"Riku?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a girl, you know. I've always been. I'm a girl and that's not gonna change."

"Okay."

"And I'm tired of people not _getting_ that. You know? I'm tired of people being ignorant or treating me any kind of way because I'm who I am."

"Okay."

"So if you have a problem with that—"

"I don't." He looked to me, then, carefully reached out a hand to steady my swing. He _looked_ at me, into my eyes, and I felt the flutters again. Felt my chest do the cartwheels, felt it tighten. "I swear, Sora, I don't. If that's what you do…"

"And you're not going to make fun of me for it. If we're going to be friends, you're not going to make fun of me for being who I am behind my back, Riku." The entire time I spoke, my voice was surprisingly controlled. I felt in control, for once, and I didn't stop talking. Just let it all out. "Because I'm tired of people doing that to me. I'm tired of people hurting me behind my back. I'm tired of not realizing it until it's too late. I'm tired, and I am _not_ going to get hurt again. I refuse. So I'm telling you now, Riku, if whatever this is—whatever this is supposed to be—is going to work then I need you accept that. I need you to accept it and get it. That's all I'm asking."

"I can do that."

"Then prove it to me."

A pause. A confused frown. "How?"

"I don't know, but you need to figure it out."

"I don't know how."

"Figure it out."

Another pause.

"Hey, Sora."

"Yeah."

"I think I like you."

"…I think I like you too."


	9. Chemicals React

**Riku; You Make Me Feel Out of My Element**

It was a mistake. Sending that text was a mistake. A big mistake, and I was sorry for it… But then, would I be talking to Sora like this now if I hadn't sent it? Would we be at this point right now? Maybe. Maybe not. I really didn't know. Some people believed in this thing called fate or destiny. I never have. But I didn't know. I really didn't know.

All I knew was, when Sora started telling me what was on his mind—what was _really_ on his mind—I was in awe. I listened so carefully to each and every word, took in the soft inflections of his voice. The look on his face. The look of someone who was almost at their limit, who was fighting hard not to get swept up in the tide of emotions. He spoke his mind and I think I started understanding what it was he'd been holding in for so long.

"I'm a girl, you know. I've always been. I'm a girl and that's not gonna change."

"Okay." Because I didn't know what else to say.

"And I'm tired of people not _getting_ that. You know? I'm tired of people being ignorant or treating me any kind of way because I'm who I am."

"Okay." Because I was sorry, truly, about what I did. About being so petty, about focusing on the wrong thing. Because this whole situation had taken a turn I hadn't expected, a turn I didn't quite like. Because I still didn't know what else to say.

"So if you have a problem with that—"

"I don't." I looked to him—her—and carefully reached out a hand to steady the swing. And it stopped with a slight creak as I stared into those blue eyes, truly stared into them, trying to get him…her to feel the seriousness with which I felt her words. My throat felt dry. "I swear, Sora, I don't. If that's what you do…"

"And you're not going to make fun of me for it. If we're going to be friends, you're not going to make fun of me for being who I am behind my back, Riku. Because I'm tired of people doing that to me. I'm tired of people hurting me behind my back. I'm tired of not realizing it until it's too late. I'm tired, and I am _not_ going to get hurt again. I refuse. So I'm telling you now, Riku, if whatever this is—whatever this is supposed to be—is going to work then I need you to accept that. I need you to accept it and get it. That's all I'm asking."

"I can do that." I honestly believed I could. Because I was getting it. The way she was speaking with me, the things she was saying, the way all of this was playing out. I was starting to get it. And I wanted her to understand that I hadn't done it to make fun—not of her; that was the last thing I'd wanted to do. I wanted her to understand just how I'd felt the first night I had seen her, how smitten I had been when I laid eyes on her. I wanted her to realize that it was the girl I had seen first and the girl I kept seeing now, even if she didn't think I did…

"Then prove it to me."

And I paused, frowned. Because I wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. "How?"

"I don't know, but you need to figure it out."

"I don't know how."

"Figure it out."

And I paused once more, eyed the boy carefully. No, girl. Girl, I would call her. I would, from this point on. I watched the brunette's face, watched how her eyes were staring blankly at the damp grass in front of her feet. Watched the slight curve of her lips as they formed a pout, the way her eyes seemed to sigh on their own. Still bright and vibrant, but sighing and sad. I watched the tips of her hair rise and fall gently as the breeze picked up again.

I watched her and thought about how I understood better than I had before. How I knew that she meant what she'd said, how I was sorry about sending that text. Sorry about it all. I watched her and thought how beautiful she looked right then, because she really was a beautiful person. Innocent in spite of what she'd been through and honest. Even though she was a girl in a boy's body, she really made a beautiful boy as well.

"Hey, Sora."

"Yeah."

"I think I like you."

"…I think I like you too."

And it was out of the way. I think… No, I'm sure. A sense of relief and release had washed over us and I could see most of the tension from before disappear from Sora's face. We had an unspoken truce now, and I felt like we could speak more openly. Without the anger, without the bitterness. Without the hurt.

I let go of Sora's swing, watched her rock her legs back and forth once more like before. Found myself doing the same, causing my swing to move in the opposite direction from hers. She brought the text back up again, less bothered by topic. "Why did you send it anyway?"

"I guess…" I let out a breath, shot a brief glance at my messenger bag that was sitting by its lonesome just feet from the swing set. "I can be a sadistic son of a bitch sometimes."

"No objections there."

"Gee, thanks."

"I gotta get my quips in," she said with a small grin. "I deserve it, don't you think?"

"If you say so." I thought for a moment. Stared up at the sky. Cloudy. Looked like rain. Shit… "I guess I sent it just to get a rise out of your brother."

"Well, it worked."

"Yeah. That was the main reason at first."

"At first?"

"Getting close to you. I mean, before I found out you guys were related—"

"Don't call me a guy."

"Before I found out you two were related, I had just wanted to get a picture of you."

She shot me a curious expression. "A picture?"

"That's how I make sense of things. That's how I make sense of life."

She thought about it for a bit, tried to make sense of it as she continued to swing forward. The creak of the chains grew louder with each movement and eventually we were both swinging at full force in opposite directions. I felt the wind licking at my hair, whipping it back wildly. I could feel Sora's eyes on me whenever she looked over, could see the lazy smile on her lips that made me smile back. And we were swinging for so long without really saying anything that everything just felt right.

When we had finished, when we had gotten that out of our systems, we got up and moved to the monkey bars. I climbed to the very top and sat there, legs crossed. Watched as Sora positioned herself on the other end so that she was hanging upside down, peering up at me. "So, through pictures?"

I nodded. Started carefully slipping through the bars so that I was hanging upside down in front of her as well. Let my arms dangle towards the ground, let my jacket fall down and hang from my wrists at the sleeves. This was actually a lot more fun than it needed to be. "Through pictures."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why pictures?"

"Some people paint," I replied quietly. "Some paint or draw or sculpt. Some write. Others make movies, documentaries. Some sing or act or build and design. I take pictures. You wanna know why?"

_Humor me,_ the brunette's expression seemed to say as she gave me an interested stare. She folded her hands behind her head. "Why?"

"Because I want to pick and choose what I remember. I want to pick and choose my memories, the ones I want to be the strongest, and I want to arrange them how I want. I want to piece the world together how I see fit, and taking pictures of the moments that matter helps me do that. Some people paint or draw or sculpt those moments. Some write about them or direct movies to portray them or act them out on the big screen or sing about them. I've got my pictures, though."

"What if someone doesn't want to do any of that?" She shifted, practically doing sit ups in mid air. Hooked her legs around the bars tighter as she reached up to fiddle with her shoe. Then she was hanging back down again, hands gripping the bar this time. "How do they arrange the moments that matter to them?"

"It's up to them." And I guess what she was really getting at was how she could arrange her own moments, her own memories. I guess she was trying to figure out how someone like her, someone who didn't know what to do with her life, could make meaning for herself. I really didn't know. "All I know is I've got my pictures, so what the rest of the world wants to do is up to it."

"Huh." Sapphire eyes blinked at me then glanced down at the grass. "I'm getting dizzy."

"Me too."

We didn't move, however, even though the blood was slowly rushing to our heads and giving us a numb feeling. We just continued to hang around (literally) and chat as if this was an everyday occurrence. I know I've said it before, but it really was strange how easily I could just talk to Sora. That was something I was beginning to appreciate.

She looked back up at me and asked, "You wanted a picture of me?"

"Yeah."

"Of me. The real me."

"Yeah."

"If I show you again, you won't laugh." It was a statement, rather than a question. It was the matter-of-fact way she had said it that made me laugh and shake my head.

"No."

"You swear, you won't—"

"I won't, Sora."

"Pinky swear." And she stretched out a hand to my face, held out her pinky, and I couldn't help but laugh harder at how serious she was taking this.

"What?"

"If you mean it, pinky swear."

"What are you, five?"

She wiggled her pinky, grinning. "Do it or I won't dress up for you."

And, highly amused, I lifted one of my hands and crossed my finger with hers, held it tight. Really, this was something else. But I was still smiling and shaking my head in spite of this, excited because this was a big step. "Pinky swear."

"Okay, then. I'll let you take a picture."

"When?"

"Saturday?" We unhooked pinkies as she spoke, as she thought for a brief moment. "If you're free."

"Tomorrow's fine."

"Hey, Riku."

"Yeah?"

"I'm getting _really_ dizzy."

I chuckled at that. Then we were precariously disentangling ourselves from the plum colored monkey bars. (We were lucky not to fall and crack our skulls open on the ground.) Then I was walking over to pick up my bag with Sora trailing behind me. Didn't know where I wanted to go. Not home. But she followed me anyway, a little ways away from the playground. Down the sidewalk leading away from my apartment complex, back towards the bus stop. It was getting a bit late anyway.

The brunette nudged me on the shoulder, catching my attention. "Hey again."

"What?"

And her voice was soft and there was a light smile playing on her lips, and some sort of twinkle in her eyes that made me study her face all the more carefully. Then: "I forgive you. For the time being."

I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until after I let it out, until after the weird feeling that had grown in my chest went away. Before I knew it, I found myself grateful for those words, more than I thought I would be. "Better than not at all."

"And you better not forget your promise, either."

"Not to laugh?"

"To show me that you get it."

"I won't." I paused for a moment, stared at my feet. Tucked my hands in my pockets. Then I looked back at her because she needed to see me say it as well as hear it. "I never officially said it, so I'll tell you now. I'm sorry."

"I know." She gave me a look that told that she truly did know. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Okay, Miss Bossy," I said amusedly.

It was a bumpy start. I wouldn't go as far saying that we completely patched things up—the partial forgiveness was an indicator of that. And even though we hadn't really talked more about him than was necessary, we had a mutual (albeit silent) agreement not to worry about Roxas anymore. Not to think about him, not to talk about him or his little boyfriend. Because there was no need anymore. I realized this. There was no need to worry about that yellow haired brat anymore, and I wanted—_needed_—to get him out of my head if this was gonna work.

It was a bumpy start, but it was a start nonetheless.

* * *

><p>Roxas was supposed to be out for most of the morning. He had practice for a game next week, so Sora had told me to drop by the house around noon when the blonde would be gone. Her mother would also be gone, most likely at her grandmother's.<p>

"I don't want them to see," she had said over the phone. "Especially not Ma. She's never really seen before… Just a couple of times when I was younger."

And I had wanted to ask more about that, but the tone in her voice discouraged me from doing so. So I just gave a heartfelt goodbye after telling her I'd be right over. A half hour bus ride later, I found myself waiting in the brunette's living room having a staring contest with the cat perched on the back of one of the couches. I took a seat, let the feline eyeball me before she wormed her fuzzy ass into my lap. And I pet her—**Sadie**, her collar read—to calm my nerves. Sora was upstairs getting ready.

Changing.

I didn't get nervous. That wasn't me. I just wasn't the kind of person that had to deal with nerves, not often. So I really wasn't accustomed to the feeling of restlessness that washed over me at that moment, or the way I was bouncing my feet up and down lightly enough not to disturb the cat. My eyes flitted around the entire room as I waited.

It was a cozy area. One long couch opposite the entertainment system and two smaller sofas on either side of it; a coffee table in front of me, cluttered with unstapled papers, text books, folders with tests and essays. (Was Mrs. Sabota a teacher?) Beyond the living room was a hallway that branched off into two separate rooms, the kitchen and an office area. There was a bathroom by the staircase behind me, by the front door. I didn't know what was upstairs, but it probably looked just as nice. Cream colored walls, matching carpet. Maybe a little bit of clutter here and there. Not necessarily neat, but cozy. Comfortable. It was a nice house.

And I just slumped in my seat, stared back down at Sadie who was making herself way too comfortable in my lap and purring. She blinked at me.

"Does she usually take forever and a day getting ready?" I asked, obviously not expecting an answer. The feline flicked her black tipped tail, twitched an ear. "Just like a girl to make you wait."

"I can hear you," Sora called from upstairs, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Don't be a weirdo and stop talking to my cat."

"Then stop taking so damn long."

"I need to curl my hair."

"You need to, or you want to?"

"I _need_ to."

_Of course you do_. Amused, I just shook my head and continued to run my hands over Sadie. I could hear the sound of Sora's feet padding on the carpeted surface upstairs as she walked away, probably to the bathroom. And the nervousness didn't really go away but instead increased as I speculated what she would come down looking like.

Hadn't I told myself this wouldn't happen? Hadn't I thought to myself that I wouldn't get to see something like this again? And here I was waiting… It was something so simple and yet it wasn't. I was excited. My fingers were itching to take a picture, itching to just reach for my bag and grab my camera and start snapping away. And I did, after a minute or two. I stopped petting Sadie long enough to bend down and grab the bag from beside my feet and pull out my new camera—

The front door opened, though, just as I was sitting back up. And of course it would be the blonde twit that met my eyes when I turned back to see who it was.

He didn't notice me until after he closed the door behind him. Froze when he finally did catch sight of me. There was a red towel draped around his shoulders. He still had on his basketball jersey and shorts, a jacket over that. Still sweating from practice. I just eyed him blankly. "You're back early."

That was enough to snap him out of his brief daze and make him frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Sorry I took so… Oh." Sora came down then, sporting a simple slate gray T-shirt dress with some kind of dark blue lily print. Came down just above her knees. A black jacket. Black boots that I recognized from the first time I'd seen her, the matching purse. A silver necklace made up of circles. She wasn't wearing her wig this time, had flattened out her natural spikes and then curled them into a wavy bob that made her look like a flapper from the twenties. I didn't think it was possible, but she looked ten times cuter than I'd remembered. She looked like the girl she claimed to be.

Gorgeous.

She stopped at the foot of the stairs, stared at her brother. Roxas stared back, and I couldn't make out his expression but I'm sure it wasn't pleased.

Sora brushed it off, looked to me instead with a small sigh. "You ready?"

"Yeah." And I got up, watched as Sadie hopped from my lap to the floor before prancing off into the kitchen. I grabbed my bag and slipped my camera back inside, hung the bag over my shoulder.

"What is this?" Roxas wasn't having it. He looked from me to Sora, still not moving from where he stood. "What, is he your boyfriend now?"

"What if he is?" Sora snipped.

"You're seriously doing this?"

"We're gonna eat out, so you can go ahead and order dinner while I'm gone."

"Sora."

She wasn't listening. Walked over to me instead, hooked her arm around mine. Then we were pushing past Roxas out the door, ignoring the incredulous stare he was shooting our ways. (I had to admit, it was pretty funny.)

And we were heading down the sidewalk wordlessly. Sora still holding onto my arm, awfully close. I wondered if she could hear my heart beating, if she realized just how warm her skin felt against mine. The closest bus stop was five minutes away. I waited two before looking down at the brunette and asking, "You okay?"

A shake of the head. An exasperated grin. Then she rolled her eyes. "I'm over it."

* * *

><p>"Has anyone ever told you that you have a big ass?"<p>

"W-what?"

"It's big."

"Stop looking!"

I just laughed, amused by the way Sora made to cover her bottom with both hands, like that would make it disappear. We had caught a bus a little further out of town than I usually went, to Oalden Corner which was basically a shopping center with a movie theater in the middle. No, a super theater, because that building was freakin' huge. You'd find small shops—retail, candy, ice cream, furniture, books, gifts and trinkets, whatever—and restaurants sprinkled about the streets. There was a large fountain in front of the theater with benches around it. Little children in bathing suits usually ran through the water when it was on, and their parents would sit on the benches and watch. Take pictures. But it was too cold. Maybe when spring rolled around.

Sora and I were walking by that fountain now, still trying to figure out where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do now that we were out here. And she still had her hands on her ass, shooting me a fake pout from over her shoulder before turning towards me and walking backwards. "Who says something like that anyway?"

I smirked, lifting my camera to snap a quick picture. "I'd think you'd be happy to have a big ass."

"Can we not talk about the size of my butt?"

"Wanna talk about mine?"

"It's flat."

"So you were looking."

She wrinkled her nose with a slight grin. "Shut up."

This was nice. Wandering around without a set location, peering into shop windows whenever we came across one. Walking by other people, other couples, without them shooting us weird looks. Because we were just a girl and a guy hanging out, and it felt real nice. We were talking so freely, much like yesterday. It was as if the near argument from before hadn't happened. As if the brief encounter with Roxas earlier hadn't happened.

_It should stay like this._

It wasn't long before we were joking our way into a sushi shop. (They had these out in town? Or was it new? I hadn't been in this particular area in so long, I couldn't be sure.) We took a seat by the window—"What's with you and sitting by the window, Riku?"—after receiving our orders. Talked some more while we ate. And while we talked I kept thinking about how I wanted to get more pictures. I had taken some on the bus, some while we had strolled down the sidewalks, but I wanted more.

"Why do they call them California Rolls anyway? They don't taste anything like California," Sora muttered, snapping me out of my thoughts. She struggled with her chopsticks, gave up halfway through before switching over to a fork and stabbing into her sushi.

I smirked, stole one neat roll from her plate and popping it in my mouth. "And how should California taste?"

"I don't know." A shrug. Another bite. "Like sunshine."

"That's not a flavor."

"They should make it one."

"What did you want to do after this?"

"Dunno." She thought for a moment, popped another sushi roll into her mouth. Glanced at a noisy couple at another table before pointing her fork at the bag by my feet. "That woman in your pictures."

"Hm?"

"That pretty blonde lady."

"What about her," I asked, arching a brow.

"Is she a model or something?"

"So she says." Larxene… Still didn't know what to think about that woman. Wasn't sure if I should keep going to her place, either—but she paid good money. I shrugged at the thought of the blonde. "I don't really know too much about her, but she lets me take her pictures."

"They always come out really good."

"Yeah?"

And she poked at her food, a thoughtful expression on her round face. Opened her mouth to say something, paused, then said it anyway. "Could you…maybe, take pictures of me like that?"

"You mean like you actually posing."

"Yeah. Like a model or something, like her."

That wasn't a bad idea, actually. I mean, up until now, all the pictures I had snapped of Sora had been on a whim and when she hadn't expected it, when she was doing every day things. Well, working, usually. Very rarely did I take posed pictures. Larxene was an exception because, again, the woman paid well. But this wasn't a bad idea… "We could do a little every day. With you in different outfits each time."

Her face lit up. _Cute._ "Yeah?"

I nodded. "It could be like a series. We could make an album."

"With Kairi and Naminé too?"

"That's kinda random."

"They're really pretty, too. I wouldn't mind. We could just get together one day and you could photograph the three of us."

She sounded so excited about the whole thing that I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I'd rather just take pictures of her and her alone. Preferably with her dressed the way she was now. But it still sounded like a good idea. "Sounds like a plan."

She grinned to herself, ate a few more sushi rolls before setting her fork down. Then she leaned forward and grabbed my bag, plopped it in her lap. I just watched her curiously as she dug inside and pulled out my camera.

"What are you—?"

"Smile."

I caught it a split second before she snapped the photo. Instinctively my hands shot up and shielded my face, causing Sora to let out a sound of surprise. "You covered your face!"

"I don't like getting my picture taken," I mumbled through my palms, lowering my fingers just enough for me to glance at the brunette.

"No fair!" She bounced in her seat, still holding the camera up. Eyes sickeningly, adorably wide. "Just one."

Shook my head. "Nah."

"Please."

"No."

"_Pwease._"

"Hell. To the NO."

"It's not fair for you to take all these pictures of me and I can't get one of you."

"You'll survive."

"One day I'll get one."

"Try me."

I was partially joking in spite of the serious tone and expression I had on my face, which just made her laugh. Something light and musical. I shook my head again and smiled with her, moved my fingers so that I could steal the camera from her hands.

And I took another picture, determined to remember that smiling face.

* * *

><p>"I see you got yourself a new girlfriend." Larxene was skimming the photos on my camera, a sly look distorting her features as she flipped through photo after photo of Sora. I <em>had<em> taken a lot yesterday… And, of course, I didn't tell her that my new girlfriend wasn't quite a girl. Physically, anyway. She smirked. "Taking pictures of another chick on the side. I'm hurt, Ri-Ri."

I frowned, tried to take my camera back from her but the woman just shifted on her couch so that I couldn't quite reach it. "You don't get to call me that."

"And she's hot, too. Lucky you."

"You jealous?"

"A little." Manicured fingers still flipped through the photos, giving light clicks as they pressed against the buttons. "But, on the other hand, I'm all woman."

"And?"

"And you'd rather be with an experienced woman than some little girl, right?"

"If by experienced you mean old, than no."

"Rude son of a bitch."

I was practically climbing on the woman's back now, probably crushing her thin little spine. But she wasn't giving it up, and that just annoyed me. Her arms were stretched out and away from me as she gave a chuckle at my behavior. "Give me my camera."

"Say please."

"I'm not joki—"

Then she did it. Caught me by surprise. Turned around so suddenly that I didn't anticipate it, pressed her lips to mine. She was… _The hell!_ And she was kissing me, enjoying it, smirking against my lips. And it took my mind a couple of seconds to register just what the fuck was going on before I gave a startled yelp—not a squeal, a yelp—and shot away. I found myself far on the other end of the couch, both hands slapped over my mouth as I glared at the woman. And she just laughed, holding my camera up in front of her in order to snap a picture of me.

I shielded my face the moment she pressed the button. Had to delete that photo later…

"What the hell are you doing?"

And Marluxia was back. He had been in the apartment earlier when I had first come over, but he had left to pick up something from the convenience store. And he was back now, closing the front door behind him.

Larxene and I glanced back at him—me with my hands still pressed against my face and this crazy pedophile _heathen_ woman still holding my camera with a wide grin. She made a kissy face at her pink haired partner. "Hey, baby."

"Why aren't you dressed? Your meeting's in an hour." I heard the rustle of shopping bags as he headed into the kitchen, as he rolled his eyes at the two of us.

"Yeah, yeah." Larxene let out a breath, rising from her seat. "I'm afraid I won't be able to grace you with my presence until tomorrow, Ri-Ri."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, you'll miss me. Just admit it."

"Stop flirting and get dressed," Marluxia muttered, popping the fridge open. And when I leapt up and snatched my camera back from his fiancé, when she had gave one last amused chuckle and disappeared into her bedroom, the man shook his head. "Damn little head sore…"

_You're telling me._

He hadn't seen… He hadn't seen, I was sure, but I still felt immensely uncomfortable in the same room with him. Couldn't keep my heart from jack hammering in my chest, couldn't calm myself enough. I didn't even feel comfortable sitting, so I rose from the couch as well, took a few steps forward. Watched Marluxia put groceries away.

The man was busy sticking some boxes of cereal into the kitchen cabinet as he shot me a sideways glance. "You can leave."

"Right. Sorry." And I didn't move right away. Continued to eyeball him. "Hey."

"What?"

"You're aware that your fiancé's a whore, right?"

"Fully." It was an immediate response, so quick that I actually let out a harsh laugh. He didn't smile—I didn't really think this guy knew how to—but an amused look entered his eyes and he just let out a sigh. "It's hard not to notice."

"Just wanted to make sure you knew."

"I can _hear_ you," Larxene called from the bedroom, in sing-song.

"Don't get mad because it's true," Marluxia called back, closing the cabinet. He glanced at me again, nodded towards the front door. "Go."

"Right."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I grabbed my things and was gone before any other weird shit could happen.

The feel of that damn woman's lips were still burned onto my own.

* * *

><p>We never said it out loud—I honestly didn't think it was necessary—but sometime after that we ended up as a couple. I couldn't pinpoint a specific time when I realized this, but I'd guesstimate somewhere between that day on the swings and the next two weeks after it. For two months we met pretty much every day we could. At Sonata when Sora had work, then after that when I rode home with her. Or, sometimes, she rode home with me and we'd sit and talk in the playground. (Never at the apartment, because <em>Greg<em> and Mom were always there. That ass really needed to leave…)

We would talk about all kinds of things. Not so simple things. I learned a lot, more than I had thought I would. Like how Sora's dad had died of cancer roughly four years ago, how she felt that that was the point where her family just stopped communicating effectively altogether. Like how she had known she was a girl ever since she was six, maybe five, but had never said anything because she had grown up in a rather religious household. How she had just thought she was weird and decided to let it go. How none of her friends knew because she didn't know how to tell them or how they'd react. Like how there was a time where she and Rox had gotten along but eventually stopped talking to each other. Or how she had lived with her grandmother until she was ten because her parents hadn't had the money to take care of twins when they had first started out; so her grandmother had just taken over. Only after her father died had she moved back in with her mom and Rox.

Then there were the simple things. Like how her favorite color was orange, which surprised me because I had pinned her for a blue kind of gal. Like how she had a thing for long hair and blue eyes—I figured me having one out of the two wasn't all that bad. Like how she had always wanted to travel Europe, maybe get a French poodle along the way and name it Jacques. ("Jacques, really?" To which the brunette countered, "It's a sexy name. Don't judge!") Like how she hated social networking sites with a passion and thought Facebook should die. Or how she had a monstrous sweet tooth that kicked in whenever she was at Sonata.

Simple things. And I noticed her quirks, too, came to adore them. Like how I could read every emotion in her eyes. Even if she tried to hide it, all I had to do was look in her eyes. Or how she wrinkled her nose in the cutest way whenever she thought something was really funny, or how small dimples would form on her cheeks when she smiled. Like how she always hid her hands when she was embarrassed or upset. And when she got _really_ flustered she'd cover her mouth and try to hide behind her fingers.

One thing I loved most of all was how she was generally the same person, whether in girl mode or boy mode. Sure, she'd act less feminine while in the latter. But essentially she was the same, and I loved it.

Saturdays Sora would dress up and we'd go out, because Saturdays were always the days her mom was out until late evening. And as much as I told her that it shouldn't be an issue with her mom, she still didn't want the woman to see. She didn't want her to know… And that was fine with me, because this relationship was a little different than what I had had with Roxas. We weren't constantly trying to _hide_ from everyone. We weren't stressed out or miserable about trying to see each other without others finding out.

Speaking of which, it didn't take long for Kairi and Naminé to pick up on it. They still didn't know about Sora's habit, but they knew something was going on between us. In fact, Kairi had come straight out and asked me the beginning of February.

"You and Sora are a thing, right?"

And I had said yes without a second thought, which just caused the red head and her partner to giggle like little school girls. Which was downright creepy. Then they'd bombarded me with questions about how it happened. How did I ask? Or had Sora asked? What did we usually do? Was Sora the reason I started spending less and less time with them? Did we get to first base yet? Second? Maybe third? (They looked innocent, but those two could be perverts sometimes. I swear.)

And I'd rolled my eyes at the two of them and calmly explained that we hadn't gotten to that point. Yet. And they'd giggled again.

Then Naminé asked me if Sora's school had a Ring Dance and if she was going to it. Which was a good question, because ours was coming up in late April, and if I planned on asking the brunette then I had better find out soon.

And it was with moments like those that I got to thinking how Sora felt about it. Us, I mean. You know? Because she wanted someone who liked her as a girl, not as a boy that dressed up as a girl. And I wondered if she ever felt a little…well, uncomfortable with me. If she ever wondered if I liked the boy aspect or the girl aspect. If she ever got to thinking about Axel sometimes… I'd think about all of this and entertain the thought of asking her up front—but then those moments would pass and I'd shove the thoughts in the back of my mind.

I still saw Roxas. And it was clear that him seeing me with Sora—still—was eating him up. But he never said anything to me. Tried not to look at me. In fact, he took care to adjust his school routine so that he wasn't at his locker at the same time as me. As far as I was concerned, I wasn't worth the time. And I was over him, really, much like Sora.

He could get the fuck over himself, for all I cared.

We did our own thing, Sora and I. The times I went to her house often lasted late into the night, late enough for her mother to come home and notice me hanging over more and more. It got to the point where she started asking me if I wanted to spend the night over, if my mother would mind. (And instead of saying that it didn't matter to the woman one way or another where I was, I just told her yes.)

It was one such night that I finally asked Sora to Ring Dance, and—

"What's a Ring Dance?"

And I stared, rolled over in her bed so that I could get a better look at her at her desk. "It's like a junior prom."

"Oh!"

"You wanna go?"

"As…a girl, or…"

"Whichever you want. I don't really care."

She adjusted herself so that she was sitting in her chair backwards. Crossed her arms and settled her chin on top. "When is it?"

"April twenty-third. Next month. You won't have to pay, either. I'll just get your ticket for you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

She fell silent for a moment, blue eyes thoughtful. Almost solemn. "I wanna wear a dress…"

"You should if you want to."

"I don't have that kind of money for one, though." And her voice dropped to a whisper, a sigh. "And Ma won't get me one…"

"You don't have a dress in your trunk?"

"Not prom-worthy."

Ah. Well, I had plenty of money saved up, so... "Is this a definite yes, Sora?"

"What?"

"Are you saying yes?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll get you a dress."

And her eyes grew the size of walnuts, I swear. They widened and her mouth formed an O shape, and I couldn't help but laugh at the look she was giving me. Shocked, she shook her head. "Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Really?"

"For reals."

"Oh my God…" She got up from her desk, still shaking her head, before sitting down on the bed beside me. Peering into my eyes as if I was playing some sort of cruel joke. "You mean it?"

"God, Sora," I laughed. "Yes. Consider it a three month anniversary gift."

"Two and a half."

I rolled my eyes, grinning amusedly. "Whatever."

Then she told me thank you with a kiss. Lips soft. Eyes closed. Upside down, yes, but it felt good and slow and deep and _intimate_. And I didn't care that the bedroom door was cracked open a few inches and that there was a chance that her mom or maybe even Rox might walk by and see because Sora. Was. _Kissing_. Me.

And I slipped my eyes closed then, because everything felt right.


	10. Teenage Dream

**Author's Note: **I wanted to thank you all again—it seems I can never thank you all enough, but I love and appreciate you all. Finals are coming up in the next three weeks so updates will probably be much slower. (Cramming. Not. Fun.) I'll definitely pick things back up after that, though, so no worries.

Enjoy and mucho love!

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; Let's Go All the Way Tonight<strong>

Somewhere along the line Riku and I started (unofficially) dating. Neither of us was really clear when it had happened, but it did. And we didn't mind. In fact, I found myself loving it. Savoring it. I don't think I'd ever been so happy, you know? Not in a long time.

Roxas wasn't too happy about any of it. The boy was convinced that Riku was just fooling around with me like the two of them had when they had dated so long ago. He thought that the only reason Riku was interested was because of my cross-dressing. But you know what? I'd already made peace with the silver haired teen. I don't think Rox understood that, but I'd already made my peace and the both of us were over it.

For the next two or so months we kept meeting as usual, whenever we could get the chance. Riku would still visit me at Sonata—he took less pictures of me then, but still of other people—and after work he'd catch the bus home with me. Or I'd ride with him, depending on his mood. I don't think he liked where he lived too much… Often we'd sit and talk at the playground across from his complex, much like that first day on the swings. And those talks. There's so much you can learn about a person if you just sit down and ask questions, you know? So much. I hadn't realized that I wasn't the only one holding so much in until Riku let it out too.

Like how he had an on again off again kind of relationship with his mother, how one day he could adore the woman to pieces and the next they'd be at each other's throats. How she didn't really act like a mother anymore, how she didn't _want _to act like a mother anymore, not since his dad left. Then there was his dad—he didn't call him dad, just by his first name. And even then he was hesitant in saying it… The man had pretty much walked out on them when Riku was six, had started another family elsewhere. They hadn't seen him since. I found this incredibly sad… ("I've gotten over it," Riku had reassured me. "Shit happens.")

I learned how his family struggled with money, even though his mom had a job with pretty decent pay—it was just a shame she spent it on the wrong things. What this job was, I wasn't entirely sure, but it involved men that Riku didn't like thinking about. I learned how he was saving up enough money to get somewhere, anywhere, and his job with his model neighbor was giving him a jumpstart. I learned how this neighbor in particular rubbed him the wrong way and put him on edge, but he still went to her place to take her pictures. ("You should stop, if she worries you so much." To which he merely shrugged and shook his head. "The woman doesn't take no for an answer.")

I learned how, even though he had a pretty decent life—nothing painfully drastic or bad, friends who cared, a roof over his head and a plan for his life—he still felt restless. Like something was missing. Like he wouldn't be able to find it any time soon, or at all. He had his pictures, but that wasn't always enough. There was something more. And I knew what he meant because I had always felt the same way. I couldn't explain it, but I knew what he was talking about.

He told me about his relationship with Roxas. How he had thought that it was legit, you know? That, even though they had kept it hidden for so long from everyone, he still thought what he had with the blonde had been legit. How Rox had just stopped calling him one day, had stopped talking with him or hanging out with him or making an effort at all. How, when he had confronted the blonde about it, he was told that it wouldn't work. That Rox was scared. He'd always been so scared. And that it just couldn't work because he was so scared all the time, of what people would say or think.

Roxas didn't want to admit anything out loud and didn't want to keep sneaking around, so Riku had saved him the trouble and told him he hadn't been serious in the first place. That he was tired of it too, that it wasn't worth the effort. That he had put up with it long enough and that it just wasn't worth it. And they just kind of split from there and hadn't looked back since.

Then we talked about the things that weren't so heavy, things that didn't necessarily make a difference but were still fun to think about. Like how we both thought school was a drag or how cafeteria food was the Devil's spawn and needed to be nuked. Like how Riku had always been a dog person but cats were just as good. How he liked spicy food, food that would kill off your taste buds. Or how he wasn't usually so forward and open with people like he was with me, how he usually didn't talk to others—unless he didn't like them; then he'd talk to them any kind of way he wanted. How he had a "completely rational, healthy, and manly" fear of spiders. But I'd better not tell anyone.

And there were so many things about him, little things that I adored. Like how his hair fell around his face, how his bangs practically covered his eyes in a way that completely fit his face. How soft his hair was, and how freakin' _cute_ it looked when I pulled it back in a ponytail (much to his displeasure). How he always made eye contact with you when he spoke, unless he was nervous. And when he got nervous his ears got red, though I don't think he realized this. Or his laugh. Which was sexy. (Yes, I said it.) How he always knew how to get a point across, even if you didn't agree with it. Or how, contrary to how rude he could be, he was an absolute gentleman. When he wanted to be.

How he treated me the same way, regardless of what I was dressed up as. Regardless of how I acted or how different I made my voice sound when I dressed in public. Regardless of how moody I could get or how much I vented about family, he would listen and put in his two cents.

So much we learned about each other in such a short amount of time. When it was okay to act certain ways around each other. When it was okay to joke and when we just needed to shut up and lend an ear. When it was okay to hold hands and act like a couple, and when we needed to scale it back because we didn't want the people around us to know. Kairi and Naminé knew. Not about my habit, but about us being a couple. And…

Well, Ma still didn't know… Just like she didn't know about Roxas and Axel. As far as she was concerned, Riku and I had just become best friends and had some sort of "bond of brotherhood" thing going on. As far as she was concerned, Riku was straight and Naminé was his girlfriend. That was the story we passed off to her, whenever it was me, Kairi, Naminé, and Riku hanging out together. That Naminé and Riku were boyfriend and girlfriend and that Kairi and I had crushes on each other. It _killed_ me having to lie about something like this, even though the girls had no qualms whatsoever with playing along.

But Ma wouldn't get it. Not yet. So it had to be a secret, you know? It had to stay a secret.

But some secrets can become hard to keep.

* * *

><p>You would've had to have been blind not to notice the perky mood I was in all Thursday. It must have been written all over my face, because Olette was quick to make me spill that afternoon during lunch exactly <em>what<em> was making me so happy. And I couldn't hold it in any longer, couldn't help but think about the night before when Riku had come over. When he had asked me to his school dance, when he had offered to buy me a dress. When we had kissed. There was just so much contributing to that overwhelming happiness that I couldn't contain it. So I just told her that I had a date to the silver haired teen's Ring Dance—leaving out the details about said teen, of course.

Olette gave me a questioning stare, lowering her ham sandwich a few inches from her face. "Ring Dance?"

"Yeah. Technically it's a junior prom."

"At St. Warrens?"

And Tidus and Selphie had come back from the lunch line then, had weaved their way through the sea of students and seated themselves opposite Olette and me the moment the brunette had asked her question. Tidus gave me the same curious look. "What about WHS?"

"Sora's going to a dance there."

"Ooh," Selphie cooed, setting her tray of food down before clapping her hands together. She bounced in her seat. "Sora's got a girlfriend he's not telling us about!"

Ha… And that was the immediate assumption? I smiled all the same, shook my head. "Not really."

"Then who're you going with?"

"Um… Her name's Kairi." Would they care if I told them the truth? Would they be alright with it? I didn't know… Now wasn't the time to tell them, either.

Olette took a small bite of sandwich before asking, "So she's at a different school, right? How'd you meet her?"

"What does she look like?" Selphie added.

Then the two of them were going back and forth asking questions about a girlfriend I didn't really have, getting far too excited about the topic. Though I found it understandable. Their enthusiasm reminded me of the day Hayner had first told me he planned on asking Olette out. (Which he had yet to do, now that I thought about it. Boy needed to get a move on!)

They asked me all sorts of questions about what kind of person Kairi was, how long I had known her, when I had asked her out. Or when I planned to and how, if I hadn't done so already. The entire time Tidus just shook his head and ate with a grin on his face, amused by how I was being verbally bombarded. And I just answered the questions as best I could, excitedly thinking about the truth behind it all. Silently regretting how often I had to lie to hide that truth.

Eventually they paused long enough for me to get my own question in. "Do you guys know any good dress stores?"

"Aw, you're gonna get her a dress?" Selphie chirped.

"Yeah…"

"That's so freakin' sweet." She elbowed Tidus, who jumped and rubbed his arm in response. "Why aren't you like that with me?"

"What'd I do?"

"It's what you didn't do. I wish _we _had a junior prom, too. I so wanna go! It's your fault."

"How's it my fault?"

"It just is."

And as they playfully argued, Olette rolled her eyes and leaned closer to me. Smiled. "When my sis got married, we went to this place called David's Bridal for her dress. Don't remember the address, but I can text it to you later if you want."

"That would be great."

"Oooh, and take lots of pictures. I want to see what this Kairi looks like."

And I made a mental note to get at least one good picture of Kairi a month from now. Now, a picture of the two of us together? Not as two girls, but as a couple? As a "normal" couple? I couldn't be sure. Riku and I hadn't really planned out how we would get to the dance, how we would break the news to Kairi and Naminé without them spazzing out, how we could hide my dress from Ma. I still hadn't even _told_ the woman that I planned on going. But I'd figure something out…

We'd figure something out.

* * *

><p>Gym. God, why did they make juniors take this class still? Rox's school had it good. At least next year I would be free. But today, gym class.<p>

Coach had us on the track again. It was much warmer out this time of March, which always put him in a good mood. So he didn't mind us walking leisurely around the track instead of jogging laps properly. There were even two other gym classes out with us, so there were about fifty or so students crowded outside. Girls had their shirts tied into knots in front of them, flashing just the right amount of naval that was considered acceptable by our school code. Boys either ignored the heat or tried to air it out by yanking on their shirt collars. Chatting with friends, admiring the blooming flowers along the sides of the track.

It felt nice out. The smell of lilies and trees and mulch mingled in the air. Birds were chirping, flitting through the air. I eyed a couple of bees several yards away near the fence around the track, making sure they didn't get too close. There was a light breeze, so even though heavy beads of sweat were forming on my body I didn't mind being outside that much. Still wanted to move onto my next class, but for the time being I'd enjoy the sun. And then—

"Where's your buddy?"

Seifer.

I didn't understand him, I really didn't. He was a pretty decent guy when with friends. He always hung out with the same group of guys, thug-like boys that made it a point to try and out jock each other. And he wasn't necessarily their ring leader, but they listened to what he had to say. Ever since that one day in the locker room, that one day where he'd caught me staring at him… He messed with me. Not always blatantly. Not like severe bullying, or anything. But every now and then he'd mess with me. Especially when Hayner wasn't around to fend him off.

It would be subtle, like the random stares that seemed to say everything that was on his mind. Or the "accidental" shoves as he passed by me. The occasional "fag" comment whenever I was within earshot. Which drove me up the wall because I hated that word. And I wasn't gay. But he wouldn't get it.

So he messed with me for some form of twisted satisfaction, and I would silently take it. Usually Hayner was there to say something for me, always fussing at me for acting like a doormat afterwards—it's best to walk away sometimes. But Hayner wasn't here today, and Seifer had noticed that.

So I let out a small sigh and kept on walking when the blonde had sauntered up to my side. Replied, "He's sick today."

And he folded his arms behind his head, staring at me from the corner of his eyes. Talking coolly like we were just two friends having a chat about the weather. "He your boyfriend or something?"

"He's not gay."

"So you don't deny that you are."

"I'm not."

"Uh-huh."

And I was tired of it, really, because he had this _thing_ against me for no reason, no good reason at all. Part of me honestly thought it was because, maybe, he liked me on some level. In a weird bullyish way, you know? Like how in grade school when little kids would pick on the ones they had crushes on because, somehow, dipping a girl's ponytail in paint meant you were sweet on her. Yelling at a boy about how he had cooties meant you liked him. Calling someone gay and sissy and queer all the time meant you had a thing for them, maybe.

So I looked Seifer right in the eye and muttered, "Get lost."

"Thought you liked me," he said with a smirk.

And that just made me shake my head, laugh a little. Mirthlessly. "What's your deal with me anyway? You're a homophobe, right? Maybe you're in the closet yourself, so you have to take it out on others and act like Mr. Tough Stuff, right?"

All signs of amusement left his face, then. No smirk, no easygoing front. An unreadable look settled in his eyes. "You better watch yourself, Spiky."

Then he pushed past me and broke into a jog.

Jerk.

* * *

><p>"We can go down to David's Bridal sometime next week and get you a tux."<p>

"Sounds good."

What?

I had walked into the kitchen early Friday morning to the sound of Ma and Rox talking about…David's Bridal? Had I heard that right? I was still in pajamas, rubbing sleep from my eyes. I had a good hour or so before eight, when my bus would come pick me up. Rox's would drop by the house thirty minutes after that, so he usually got up before me. That's why I was surprised to find the blonde fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal before him. Ma was fixing herself some eggs at the stove.

They both glanced at me when I stepped inside. Only Ma shot me a greeting smile; Rox just turned his attention back to his food. (Trust me. I didn't care anymore. Ma might not have noticed, but it was normal.)

I headed for the fridge, popped it open. "What's this about David's Bridal?"

"Rox has a dance coming up next month," Ma replied, scrambling her eggs with a fork.

"Ring Dance?"

"You have one too?"

"No. Um…" I pulled out the carton of orange juice, set it on the counter long enough to get a glass from the cabinet. Thinking what to say. "Kairi and I are going."

"Oh." And Ma seemed genuinely surprised. The good kind of surprised, like she had just found out she had won a thirty dollar gift-card to one of her favorite stores. Or something. From the corner of my eye I caught Rox staring at me curiously. I ignored it, because I knew what he was thinking…

Ma smiled again, eyes bright. And it kind of broke my heart. "Well we can get you a tux too. Do you need money for a ticket?"

"No, Rik— Kairi will get it for me." I avoided her gaze as I poured myself the juice. Then I found myself formulating some sort of idea, and I looked back at the long haired woman. "Um. Ma?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Is it okay if Riku comes with?"

"If his mother's okay with it, yes." Her back was turned to me now, and I saw her scraping her eggs onto a plate beside her. "I don't have money for three tuxedos, though."

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna buy his own."

"Okay. Call him and ask him if next Saturday is okay."

"Yes ma'am." Grinning, I hopped over to the woman, leaned up and planted a grateful kiss on her cheek. "Thanks Ma."

Again she looked surprised, but she just nodded and pecked me back on the forehead. "Alright. Now hurry up and eat something before you run out of time."

I drank my juice and fixed myself some waffles in the toaster oven. Ate quickly because I had yet to shower or wordlessly fuss at myself in the mirror before getting over it and getting dressed for school. It was only after I had made it back upstairs, after I had stepped into bathroom to brush my teeth, that Roxas slipped inside and eyeballed me.

I spat into the sink, rinsed my mouth out before staring back at him. "What?"

"You're not really going with Kairi." It was a statement, not a question. And I didn't want to go through it with him, so I changed the subject.

"Are you taking Xion?"

A pause. The boy sighed, rubbed the back of his neck. "We broke up."

"Oh." Because of Axel. He didn't have to say it, but I knew.

"We're still going together because we already bought couples' tickets."

"But you're not gonna dance or anything like that?"

He shook his head and leaned against the doorway with arms crossed. Looked to his feet. "No. We'll just take pictures then go do our own things, but nothing else."

I didn't say anything to that, instead examined my face in the mirror, wondered if I could buy some sort of cream for the zit that was starting to glare at me from my forehead. Then, after a moment of silence, Roxas asked, "Did Riku ask you?"

Didn't look at him. Pressed my hands to the sink counter. "Is that a problem?"

"I'm just curious."

"He's…buying me a dress."

More silence. His jewel toned gaze was boring into the back of my head. Then: "You think that's gonna fly with Ma?"

The tone in his voice was…strange. Not really hostile, not full of menace, but not necessarily understanding. I frowned. "She won't have to know."

"She's gonna want pictures of you and your 'girlfriend.' She's gonna want to see you in that tux, not a dress."

"She… Crap."

"You won't be able to hide it."

_Like I need _you_ of all people telling me that._ "We'll figure something out."

For some reason he was getting frustrated with me. For some reason this really _bothered_ him. And I didn't get _why_. I could never understand why it should bother him so much if it didn't affect him, why it should be an issue with him and Ma when there were people out there in the world who didn't care. Who didn't mind. People like Riku. I could never understand why he couldn't get with the program and learn that I wasn't going to change. But that's Roxas.

The blonde sighed, narrowing his eyes. "Why risk it?"

"I'm doing it whether she likes it or not. Whether you like it or not."

"She's going to find out."

"Then she'll find out." And I looked him in the eyes. "It doesn't matter to me."

He shook his head, pushed himself away from the door frame. "But it does."

"I need to shower."

And he could hear the annoyance in my voice, could see the anger in my eyes. Because I knew he was right, but I didn't want to admit it.

He muttered, "I'm just saying," before turning to leave and closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"Look at the camera."<p>

"I am."

"You keep moving your eyes at the last minute."

"It's embarrassing."

And Riku smiled, shook his head. Lowered his camera just enough to get a good look at me. "It's just me."

A blush crept up on my face as my eyes wandered to the side yet again. "It's because it's you."

He'd cleaned his room up. Sometime earlier that Saturday. Or maybe it was always this tidy. I couldn't be sure. I still couldn't believe Ma had agreed to let me spend night at his place, either… It was small and simple. Just a low mattress that came up to my thigh, covered in a thin white sheet and a black and blue striped comforter. Deep blue pillows. The walls were bare, which was a stark contrast to my walls at home; it'd be hard not to find a poster or picture taped somewhere in my room.

His bed was pressed against the wall directly next to the door, and across from the bed was his closet. Didn't close all the way because he had a bunch of books and folded clothes stacked in there. A box with some other things tucked away, but I hadn't really looked in it. Then there was the window opposite the door that overlooked the complex's parking lot. He had the blinds closed. And that was it.

I didn't know why I found it so fascinating, why I enjoyed it so much. Maybe it was because this was the first time I had ever been in Riku's room, _his space_. The first time I had ever been inside his apartment. His mother was gone that night, on some date with a brunette that Riku and I had passed on the stairs when I had come over a few hours ago.

He hadn't noticed I was a boy. Had given me a rather…flirty smile—ignoring the scowl Riku shot at him—as he trailed after Riku's mother. Had said "Be careful around him, little miss. He bites." Then he and Riku's mother had hopped into his car and drove off somewhere.

And now I was in Riku's room, fighting back the discomfort that washed over me because he had me sitting on the foot of his bed. Had me posed somewhat suggestively, legs crossed and arms holding me up from behind. Chest poked out. Head cocked to the side. And I felt nice, you know? My hair was flattened and curled again, no wig—I hadn't worn that thing in a while, now that I thought about it. I had on a ruffled blue sun dress that barely covered my thighs. No leggings because I had forgotten them, so it was just my bare skin and my flip flops.

Riku had wanted to take pictures of me, but the way he was staring was so intense that I couldn't sit still for long. Couldn't really look at him for long. I wondered if he looked at the blonde model woman the same way when he took her pictures… I shifted on the covers.

The boy had set his camera down on the bed beside me then walked over to his backpack sitting in the corner of the room, pulled out some gum. He popped another stick of the tangerine flavored gum in his mouth—he had given me one a while ago, but I had long since spit it out since it lost its flavor—before resuming his position feet away from the bed. Held up his camera again, aimed it carefully at me. And I silently told my heart to stop its incessant beating, to calm itself as I relaxed my body and took up the pose again.

"Just shut everything else out. It's all you." Those milky green eyes stared at me with such intensity that I didn't know what to do with myself. And he added, "You look beautiful."

I couldn't get my blush to go away. "You always say that."

"You do."

Damn it, he wasn't making this any easier! I felt like my heart would burst from the joy his words brought, but still I tried to calm myself.

"Tilt you head."

"Bend your arm some more."

"Don't smile."

"Lift your chin."

Every other picture he would give a different soft command, basically picking poses on a whim. And every now and then I threw in my own, amused by how his eyes lit up when he saw something he liked. Like something was clicking in his head. Eventually I ended up lying on my stomach with my feet pointing in the air, facing him and staring up at the camera with a "puppy dog" expression. A coy smile.

Riku was silent a moment, eyeing me up and down before saying, "Slip the strap down halfway."

I hesitated. "My bra will show."

"I know."

Well then.

"Slip it off." And I did. Then he took the picture, paused again. "All of it."

And I did. All of it. Slipped the dress down so that the black lace of my bra was visible. Then he told me to slip the dress off completely and I did. He took two more pictures of me just in my underwear.

"Curl up some. Like a cat. Reach your hands out."

And I did. And he wanted me to really arch my back, to really get my butt in the air. Then he took the picture.

"Open your mouth more."

"You're making this sound like a porno," I joked after a moment, breaking out of the serious expression he wanted me to retain and smiling. Then this look crossed his face that had me arching a brow at him. "What's wrong?"

"I got an idea…"

"What?"

He kissed me. Stepped up to the bed, got up close so that I had to sit up on my knees, and kissed me. This would make kiss two. I know. Two and a half months and we were only on the second kiss, but it was a big deal. And it was quick, so quick that when he pulled away I wasn't sure if it had even happened.

Then, camera still in hand, he snapped a picture of my surprise, smiling slyly. Before I knew it I was lying down onto my back, head cradled in his pillow, staring up at him as he crawled on top of me. And he had one hand still on the camera, holding it as best he could because it was kind of big, and his other hand on my chest. Pressing against the silicon forms beneath the bra. Running against my neckline and then sliding lower, lower, lower…

"What are you—"

And he settled the hand on my crotch, running his fingers along the panty line. Rubbing me lightly. And his face was so close as he moved that hand, making my face grow ten times redder than before. It felt good, but I didn't know what he planned on doing and…

"Relax your body."

"M…mm," Found myself lifting a hand to grip onto his arm, tugging on the fabric of his long sleeved shirt. That just made his grin broaden, made him start rubbing harder at the fabric of my underwear. I felt myself getting hard. And he was just _rubbing_ me through the fabric and nothing more. "Wai…"

And he nipped at a spot on my shoulder then, slipping that hand into my underwear and lightly caressing, as if unsure. And when I didn't stop him and let out a light moan he wrapped his hand around, started stroking. My breath hitched, my back arched.

It took some slight struggle, but he lifted his camera in the other hand, aimed it at me. "Stay like that."

"Riku…"

"Waist up. I'll just take pictures of the waist up." To make a point he held the camera above my face, angled it so it would capture just my chest and up. Away from my arousal. Then he snapped the picture, whispering, "It won't show."

"That's not…" I shuddered, eyes half lidded. Bit my bottom lip as his hand stopped in its movements and planted itself beside my head. That wasn't what I was worried about. It was the face I was making, the jolts of pleasure he was sending through my body with just _that hand_. I didn't want him to get this on camera…and yet.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice was a seductive purr, tickling my face. He pressed his mouth closer to my ear. "I will if you want me to."

"No."

And it was such an immediate response that he abandoned the camera on the nightstand and kissed me again.

I slipped my eyes closed and let myself get lost in the moment, in those lips. A cool press of his mouth on mine, hungry and dominating and soft and tender all at the same time. Deep. And, slowly, I wrapped my arms around his pale neck, pulled him into me because this felt amazing. His hands running against my waist, my stomach, my chest felt amazing. His hands roaming back to my arousal, slipping back into my underwear felt amazing. The way his hair fell like a curtain on my face, tickling my cheeks, was amazing. The way his legs were positioned on either side of mine, the way he pressed himself into me, the warmth of his body, the bulge of his pants—

And I moaned into the kiss, still swept away. And his tongue was curling against mine. Tasted like the tangerine gum he had been chewing. And, soon, the boy had taken his hands and planted them on either side of my head, caressing my face. As if molding it. And I knew where this was going, what was about to happen. But I wasn't scared or worried, not in the slightest. I wasn't worried about the fact that this wouldn't be quite the experience I had always dreamed of, because physically I was still a boy. I wasn't worried about him just doing this because, physically, I was a boy. Because this felt right. It felt right because it was Riku and me, just the two of us in this moment.

And it felt amazing.


	11. Life is Beautiful

**Author's Note:** MUCH shorter than usual, but for a reason. No freaking out, ookies? Good then. ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; Why Do You Make It So Complicated?<br>**

Kissing Sora was like having your jolt to a heart stop; like having the whole world grind to a halt and converge to a single point in time, a single moment forever frozen. And you're frozen with it. It was like sinking into innocence, getting a taste of it, because I _knew_ she had never done this before. Not seriously, but it was still worth the ride because of that fact. I could taste the peach gloss on her lips, the tangerine flavoring of my gum—which I hadn't bothered to spit out. I didn't care, though, just got lost in those lips.

If you haven't noticed by now, the kiss was damned good.

I think we both forgot how to breathe the moment I (reluctantly) pulled back. Just let out gasp like breaths and eyed each other for a long, wordless moment. She ran her hands from my neck, trailed them to my face where she pressed them against my cheeks. Much like how my hands were pressed to hers. Blue eyes were a little unfocused. Lustful.

Then she was tugging off my shirt, and I lifted my arms so that she could toss it over the side of the bed. And we both sat up to take off whatever clothing we had left. Shoved off my jeans. Unhooked the bra, let the fake breasts fall to the ground with it. Slipped off underwear until we were stark naked and going at each other again, more hungrily.

She settled in my lap with her legs wrapped around my waist, fingers moving restlessly through my hair, massaging it. She crushed her lips back to mine, nipped at my bottom lip. Sucked it. And I think I let out a little groan at how _playfully _she had done it, at how she smiled a little when those pearly whites met with my mouth. Too fucking _cute._ Next thing I knew, she had my gum in her mouth and was chewing it lightly. Swallowed it. Which just turned me on more, for some strange reason.

My hands found their ways to her waist, gripped it. Pulled her closer. I felt her grinding her hips against mine, fingers still messing with my hair. Felt good. Felt _damn_ good. She let out a breathy whine, pressed her lips to my cheek as she did so. And I started rolling my hips with hers, moaning at the friction between our arousals. And I have to be honest with you, even though I could see the girl inside Sora and cared for her so much it hurt, what I was witnessing and cherishing and _feeling_ now was all male. Particularly the swell of need _down there_ that was begging for attention that I was more than happy to give.

I stopped, though, causing the brunette to keep moving as if she wanted more. Still hugging Sora's hips and pressing my mouth to her ear, I let out a breathy chuckle. "Ha…"

Her fingers slowed in my hair. Voice soft, excited. "What?"

"I've never…done this before."

A pause. Slight amazement in her tone now. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh…" She kissed my cheek again. "I'm…kinda new to this…too."

Axel.

And the strange feeling I got when I thought about the red head must have shown on my face, because she was shooting me this concerned look. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking. She cupped my face in her hands again, whispered. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"He's not you."

"I know."

"He'll never be like you."

"I know."

"Then don't stop."

She didn't have to tell me twice.

We started grinding against each other again. I slipped my fingers in her mouth. And I almost laughed because she had this look on her face for a brief moment, like she didn't know what to do with them, before a light clicked on in her head and she started sucking. Moistened the digits with her tongue. And I trailed kisses along her neck as she did so, moving lower until I got to the hardened buds on her chest. Circled one with my tongue before sucking on it.

She made a whimper like sound against my fingers, moving a hand lower. Started stroking me, stroking us both at the same time in one hand, and it was fucking _slick_ and tense and wet and—

"Shit." Still had my lips pressed to her chest, slipped my eyes closed. "Shit, Sora… Faster."

And she went faster while I ripped my fingers from her mouth, faster still when I poked first one then the other into her entrance. She squeaked—yes, squeaked—when she felt the intrusion but her hand didn't stop and she was driving me crazy. And before long I was driving those two fingers into her hard, eliciting sharp gasps. The occasional _Yes, Riku, right there_—_ohmygod, right there!_

Then she rose up enough to push me down a little, to push herself onto me, and then she was riding me with such reckless abandon I didn't know what to do with myself and fuck—fuckingCHRIST—it felt too good. Even if she was new to it, she knew enough about what she wanted to _work it_. And work it she did. This amount of pleasure should have been illegal.

So I had my back pressed to the bed this time, hands settled on Sora's waist—she really had some nice curves—thrusting up as she moved down. Each time she let out sharp whines. The pitch went up with every bounce, driving me to go faster. And I could feel her erection press against my stomach every time, and again I couldn't help but think of her as a guy in this moment—because she felt like one and sounded like one. But it still felt good.

We went on for a while, kept going. She came once on my stomach and again when I pulled out and pushed her back onto the bed. Made her turn around. I really, really, _really_ couldn't get enough. This time she was on hands and knees and I was hunched over her, driving in hard. Rapid every few seconds, then slower and steadier. And faster again, harder. And she was losing it, head buried into the pillow and fists gripping the navy blue sheets. The bed was creaking much louder than before, bumping against the wall.

"P…pull my…my hai…ah!"

"Pull your hair? Like this?" I whispered, fisting some of her straightened hair, gently yet firmly pulling her head back. I buried my nose into the crook of her shoulder, kept pounding into her with the occasional moan. One hand buried in hair and the other resting on the brunette's shoulder.

"Riku!"

At this point she was crying out much louder than before, probably too loudly. But I didn't give a damn if any of our neighbors heard or cared, didn't care at all, because I wanted to hear her call my name like that again. Told her I wanted her to say my name, and she did. Screamed it into the sheets, screamed how much she loved me.

And I'm so against using that word so freely, using it without ever being one hundred percent sure. Because you can't love someone so easily, can't love them unconditionally without ever being entirely sure. But I said it anyway, said it in her ear because I meant it and felt it.

"I love you too—fuuuuuuuuck…ah…I love you, Sora."

She came again—third time's always the charm—and everything clenched so tightly around me when she did, making me feel like I never had before. A sharp cry tore itself from my mouth when I released. Then it was done.

Sora and I collapsed beside each other, panting heavily. She rolled over onto her side, staring into my eyes with appreciation written on her face. Eyes half lidded, lips forming a lazy smile. She looked so…angelic, almost. Like she was glowing.

"Be still," I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my camera from the night stand. And I snapped three pictures before she could respond, her smile growing with each one. Wanted to remember that look. Beautiful.

She cuddled closer to me when I put the camera back before settling onto my side. "So this is an afterglow."

"I like the sex more."

A small, amused chuckle in response. Then her expression changed, grew a little solemn.

I pressed my palm to her cheek, frowning. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just… That was amazing."

"For my first time."

"Period."

And I found myself worrying because I could feel something wet on my fingers. A fat drop was sliding down her cheek. "Why are you crying?"

"I want children," the brunette whispered. Threw me off guard, actually, and I laughed.

"A little early to be thinking about that, don't you think?"

In spite of herself, she was laughing too, pressing her hand to mine. Nuzzling her face against my palm. Sapphire eyes slipped shut as she replied, "I've always wanted children, ya know? I wouldn't mind having them."

Then I realized what this was about. Understood. What we had just done was great, yes. Worth it. Memorable. And there was no doubt that Sora had enjoyed it as well. But there would always be that thought gnawing at the back of her mind, tormenting her.

How would things be different if she'd been born a girl?

I sighed when I thought about this, started wiping at the tears then rubbing small circles into the side of the brunette's scalp. "Your own kids, huh?"

"Yeah… Yeah."

"There's adoption."

"Yeah."

"Hey."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

She opened her eyes again, and I felt my heart jump in my throat. She smiled again, eyes lighting up in spite of the tears, and pressed her forehead to my chest.

"Love you too."

* * *

><p>She was depressed again.<p>

It's not something you can mistake so easily, especially when she avoided your eye or shot you a strained smile. Because smiling was something that came naturally to Sora, so there was no excuse for her to pretend. No reason for her to be so quiet and withdrawn. Something was wrong. It was Monday, two days after... You know. I hadn't really seen her at all the day before, considering I had a meeting with Larxene most of yesterday, but we had texted a few times here and there. There had been no sign at all that anything was wrong. That's why, when I dropped by the house after school on Monday I had noticed the change right away.

It was hard not to; there was such a stark contrast between the happiness and love I had seen in her eyes that night at my apartment and the look she was giving me now. I hadn't said anything because her mother was still hovering around the kitchen, cleaning up the rest of the early dinner she had made for us. And Sora didn't want to go upstairs to her room where we could have privacy, so we were just settled at the table with plates of half eaten food before us. Quietly chatting about mundane things. Only when Mrs. Sabota left the room—and I swear the woman shot Sora and I this…this _look_ as she did so—did I arch a brow at the brunette. "What's going on?"

She picked at the rice on her plate with her fork. Let out a light breath. "Nothing."

"No. Don't you fucking do that to me, Sora." My voice came out low, harsh, and she stared at me in shock. "Don't you lie to me. What the hell is wrong?"

"It's n—"

"Don't you _dare_ say it's nothing."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You need to."

"Don't make me."

"Sora."

She didn't let me see her cry. Wiped at her eyes with the end of her sleeve before I could catch sight of the little streams running down her flushed cheeks. I didn't like this. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but… Mrs. Sabota could walk back in. If we had been in Sora's room… Damn it. "Tell me what's wrong."

And her voice was shaky when she whispered, "Ma caught me when I came home last night."

What?

"I was wearing the dress, Riku. I didn't change. I just walked in and she saw me."

Oh… Oh.

Holy shit.

I eyed the brunette for a long moment, watched her bite her bottom lip as she went back to picking at her food. She let her fork clatter to the plate after a moment, though, let out a frustrated huff. Shook her head.

I shook mine as well. This was why I had told her to bring spare clothes, inconspicuous clothes. Why I had told her to change before she left the apartment Sunday morning... "What did she say?"

"She just…" There was the tear. Several tears. She pushed her plate away, further towards me, before crossing her arms on the table and burying her face in them. "She just yelled."

"But what did she say."

"It d-doesn't matter."

"Sora…"

"If he doesn't want to talk about it, then he doesn't want to talk about it."

Roxas was in the kitchen doorway. Or maybe he had been standing there and we were just now noticing. Who knew? Sora and I both looked up at him as he walked in, as he headed for the fridge to grab the food his mother had just packed away. Set the containers on the counter before grabbing a plate and putting it beside them.

I narrowed my eyes at the head sore. "No one asked you."

"And you, Sora," he said quietly, ignoring my comment. Blue eyes were scrutinizing the brunette coolly. He scowled. "You can't keep crying about it like this. You think that's gonna put Ma in a better mood, make things better?"

And Sora wasn't in the mood for any of it, so she jumped from her seat and rushed for the hallway. Rushing for her room, most likely. Tears were still running down her eyes when she screamed to her brother, "GO DIE, ROXAS!"

Then she was gone, footfalls thumping against the carpeted floor. From another room in the house I could hear the faint sound of Mrs. Sabota's voice as she called, "Quit stomping!"

I got up to follow the brunette—

"Let him go."

Then Roxas stopped me before I could even catch up to Sora, held me feet away from the entrance. The look on his face was…pained. But still cold. Like he was juggling around the thought of actually crawling off somewhere and dropping dead. I wanted to shove him away from me—maybe even plant a good one in his face, or my foot up his ass—but the expression on the blonde's face told me it wouldn't do any good.

So I just gave an aggravated groan and slapped his hands away from my chest, stomped over to the counter and pressing my hands to the surface. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

How the hell could he sound so calm?

"You're her fucking twin brother, Roxas." I glared at him as he came back to the counter, as he opened one of the containers and started shoveling food onto his plate. I found myself shaking my head, gripping the counter far too tightly. "This tough love thing you've got going on isn't helping anything."

The blonde paused, thought about my words. Then said something that threw me off guard because I hadn't expected him to change the subject so easily. "You call him 'her' now?"

"Because she is a her. Someone's gotta recognize that."

"You think _that's_ helping anything?"

"It's a start."

"But does it _change_ anything? Really?"

"You don't have the first clue what she goes through—"

"And you fucking do?" And he slapped the serving spoon back into the container of rice, slamming both palms onto the counter and giving me a hard stare. "Do you know how _hard_ he was crying last night? Do you know how much it _hurts_ seeing him like that? Ma won't even look at him, let alone talk to him. It's been like that all day."

And I had wished Sora would have told me that, would have at least called me if she had been hurting so much. I would have answered… I would have talked to her—no, hell. I would have run all the way over here in the dead of the night and snuck in if I had known she'd been so upset. Why hadn't she called me?

I let out a deep breath, tried to calm myself, tried to keep my voice even. "That's why you're supposed to help her with stuff like this. You have to be the other person she turns to when I'm not around."

"Why do I have to be that person?" His voice was a whisper now. Maybe because he was worried his mom would hear. (Where was Mrs. Sabota now? Could she even hear our conversation?) Or maybe he was whispering just because.

"Because you're her brother. Brothers protect their sisters."

"He's not my—"

"Yes she fucking is. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you can help her."

"You think it's easy having to deal with something like this?"

"Because it's all about you," I snapped.

"No it's not," he snapped right back.

"Then quit acting like it. How exactly do you deal with it? By treating her like some sort of freak? Acting all high and mighty? Stealing her boyfriends?"

"For the love of—" His fingers found their ways to his hair, ran through it in a way that was meant to relieve some of the stress now showing on his round face. He bit his bottom lip—and I was starting to think that was a family thing, because Sora and Mrs. Sabota did the exact same thing when they were upset—before gritting out, "I. Didn't. Know."

"Bullshit. Some red flag must have gone off in your head letting you know that, maybe, Sora dug your best friend. You must have noticed."

"I really didn't. God… I'm tired of that being brought up."

I eyed him for a moment, thinking. Watched as he lowered his head into his now crossed arms on the counter, pushed his plate and the containers away. "How're things between you two anyway?"

Roxas didn't reply right away. Sighed. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know."

"Does your mom know?"

"No."

"You still see him on the DL, then?"

"I don't fucking know, Riku."

And the way he said my name brought me back to two years ago—well, it was a little over two years now, wasn't it? The way his voice dropped and the way he shifted his head so that his eyes could wander reminded me so damn much of the one night we had (almost) done it, maybe six months into the relationship. The same look, like he was embarrassed. Like he didn't know how to make sense of any of it.

I sighed. "Are you fighting?"

"Did you…" His fingers twitched against his arms, clenched the fabric of his flannel sleeves. He didn't quite meet my eye for a long moment, but then he stared back up at me. "He and Sora slept together. Did you know?"

"…Yeah."

"Sora told you?"

"I kind of pieced it together."

"Shit," was the soft response. And the way he said it…

Yeah, shit was right.

I crossed my arms, leaned further against the counter. "You mad?"

"The hell do you think?"

"You gonna break up with him?"

"You'd like that."

"Do you _want_ to break up with him?"

"No." The response was loud and clear and defiant. Immediate. And I knew why that was the case, why he had answered so quickly, and I couldn't really blame the guy because it was understandable.

"You love him?"

"Yeah…"

"Well aren't you hot shit?" I had said it jokingly enough, soothingly enough for him to pick up on the fact that I wasn't necessarily making fun of him. And he knew I was doing it all in (somewhat) good natured fun. But he still heaved a breath and settled his hands back in his hair. Looked at me again with a cool, concerned, heavy expression.

"Go check on Sora, okay."

He really didn't need to tell me. I moved from the counter and headed for the hallway.

"I can't be that person yet, Riku. I can't be that guy." He stopped me with that declaration, though, just as I was halfway out. It caused me to stop and stare at him. He didn't look up at me as he spoke. "That's why he's got you."

"She."

"Whatever."

"That's why."

He blinked. "What?"

"Your attitude. That's why I'm all she's got right now." Aquamarine eyes looked over the blonde again. A frown painted my lips. Then I was turning to head upstairs.

"Get your shit together, Blondie."


	12. Winter Sleep

**Author's Note:** Another short one; I wanted to get both perspectives of Sunday/Monday out of the way first. Also, I don't know if you've noticed by now, but I choose a song as the title of each chapter. For each song I pick a lyric that I think fits the mood of the chapter best and put it in the beginning. They're usually songs I listened to while writing each chapter. I'm suggesting this now; read this while listening to "Winter Sleep" by Olivia. On repeat. It'll hit you harder.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; I Can't Be Alone Right Now<br>**

I had left the following Sunday morning. Not too early; a little after noon, I think. Riku had agreed to take pictures of his model neighbor—I still didn't know her name, actually—for most of the day so he had walked with me to the library fifteen minutes away from his complex. Luckily his mother and her boyfriend still hadn't returned from…wherever they had run off to the other day; it would have been a little weird to explain the bed hair and giddiness and whatnot. Or maybe his mother wouldn't have cared? Anyway.

Riku had kissed me goodbye after ensuring that I'd be fine on my way back home, and then went on his way. Had told me to change into my spare clothes before he did so, so Ma wouldn't suspect anything. And you know, I almost did. I had gone into the library's family bathroom and locked myself into one of the stalls, had started pulling my boy clothes out of my bag—but I changed my mind at the last minute and stayed in my dress. Checked myself in the mirror. Some of the spike had started coming back to my hair, making it look poofy, but for the most part it still looked good. I still looked passable.

So I didn't change. I know I should have, but I didn't. Couldn't. You know? I felt _that_ good. So I hung out pretty much all of Sunday on my own, still dressed up. Not really ready to head back home. Texted Riku a few times through the day, seeing if he was still feeling the emotional high that I was. I even popped by Sonata, though Mrs. Aerith hadn't recognized me at all. Still didn't know… I had given her a fake name when she greeted and seated me. It gave me a weird rush I couldn't explain.

So after a full day of doing whatever wherever however I wanted, I came home that night. Still made up, still bubbly and in love with the world. In love period. There was a grin on my face, wide, content. It was going on eight, so I figured I had plenty of time to change my clothes before Ma came home from work. Because she still had work to take care of on her campus every two Sundays and today was one such Sunday. I should have had time.

I was wrong.

For some reason the woman was home early that night, halfway through a glass of milk the moment I walked into the kitchen. I'd come in through the back door. Because that was the thing to do when I was out late at night, come in through the back door where I had less of a chance of being seen. But Ma had seen me, caught sight of everything. The dress. The makeup. The flattened hair. She might have even smelt the perfume I had swiped from her bathroom days before.

At first she looked at me like I was some sort of stranger, but after she got a good look at my face the recognition set it. We both froze. Just stared at each other. Ma had an unreadable expression on her face, but I could see it steadily growing colder and harder with each passing second. And, suddenly, I felt tired.

I closed the back door behind me. I made to walk past her, but her low voice stopped me in my tracks. "Where've you been?"

"Out."

"Dressed like that?"

I took slow steps towards the kitchen exit, the sound of my flip flops slapping against the linoleum floor torture to my ears. Heat was starting to rise to my face, but I kept my voice even. Kept myself calm. "Yes."

"And you thought no one would notice?"

"No one ever does."

"For the love of mother fucking _GOD_, Sora!"

And I stopped then, truly stunned. Not by her anger—I had expected as much. Not by the way the woman had slammed her drink onto the counter before lunging at me, before gripping my arm. No, I was stunned by the fact that she had swore. Ma never swore. Especially on God's name. She had a strict Christian upbringing, and even though she wasn't as pious as Grams, she still held her faith close to her heart. So I was shocked when the woman had let out such an outburst, and even more so when she started dragging me out of the kitchen with her lips pursed and her blue eyes narrowed. I tried pulling myself free, but her grip was tight.

"Ow—M-Ma! You're hurting me!" My eyes were watering.

The woman just shook her head. "_You're_ hurting _me_."

Too hard… She was pulling on me too hard. It felt like my arm was going to pop out of its socket at any moment.

Then we were in the downstairs bathroom. Ma pulled me in front of her then, placing both hands on either of my shoulders and practically shoving my face in the mirror. She shook me, yelling. "Look at yourself."

"I…I am."

"Do you see yourself? Do you _see yourself_, Sora? Do you see what you look like? You're not a mother fucking girl, damn it! You're not a girl, you're a young man!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes you are."

"NO I'M NOT!"

I tried pulling away then, tried shoving her back so I could leave. Didn't want to hear this. Didn't need to hear any of this… My bag had slipped from my hand, fell to the ground. The spare clothes slipped out, and I wanted to pick them back up and leave. But she held me still and made me look at myself. She made me _look_ at myself, and I didn't want to.

_Crap…_

Tears were already rolling down my cheeks as she went on, voice rising in volume with each word.

"What do you think is going to happen, huh? You plan on waking up one day with breasts and a vagina? You think your dick's gonna fall off? Is that what you want?"

"L-let me g-go—"

"You think dressing like a girl's gonna make you one? You think it's gonna be _easy_? You think you can just put on some fake hair and fucking makeup and everything's gonna be okay? Huh? Do you know how hard it'll be for you, Sora, do you really know?"

"I said l-let me go!"

"Look at me— Sora, _look at me_!" And she spun me around to face her then, cupped my tear stained face in both of her hands. There was such anger there, so much pain in her eyes, that it tore me to pieces. Words left me and the only thing I could do at that moment was shake my head as Ma started crying with me. She was shaking so hard, and her fingernails were digging into the sides of my forehead as her voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "Baby, why can't you just love the way you are?"

"Mm-mm…"

There were no getting words out. I continued to shake my head vigorously, clamping my eyes shut as rivers streaked down my cheeks. I felt my knees start to shake and my whole body sag. My fingers found their way on top of Ma's, weakly attempting to pry them away from my face.

"You're a handsome, _handsome_ young man, Sora. You really are. Why can't you accept that?"

"Mama…"

What did I have to do? What did I have to do to prove to this woman, to make her see the truth? Why couldn't she see past the skin, past the voice, past all of that and see that her baby girl was screaming for air? Why couldn't she see that she and everyone else got it wrong? Not that they might have got it wrong, but that they _had_ got it wrong? All wrong.

"I'm a g-girl."

"No. Baby, no."

"Mommy, I'm a girl!"

"You're not."

"DON'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT I'M NOT!"

Everything was a blur. I tore her hands from my face, pushed her so hard that she actually fell onto the toilet seat—at least it was closed—with a groan. Then I ran from the bathroom, up the stairs. Past Roxas, who was halfway down them, eyes wide. Heard him ask me something, call my name with concern, but I didn't listen. I ran straight to my room, slammed the door. Didn't even bother with climbing onto my bed; curled up in the corner by my closet instead, hugging my knees and burying my head in my arms.

_I'm a girl._

_I'm a girl._

_I'm a girl._

_Not a boy, a beautiful girl._

And I thought of Riku, thought of the night we had spent together. The pictures he had taken. The way he had treated me, the way he had spoken to me. The way he understood me. Because he could see it, see past everything. He got it. He truly did. He saw me for the girl I was. Yes, he saw Sora the guy first, but he got past all of that. He got past all of that and then he saw the girl inside. And he loved her. He loved me, regardless.

Why couldn't anyone else?

And I thought of Axel too. Remembered that night at the club. The alley. The car. The way he had touched me. The sweet words he had said to me in all the time we had known each other. The way he had pretended to care. Or did he care? Did he still care? He had Roxas now, but did he still care?

And I thought of Roxas. Rox, and the rest of my family. I thought of Dad, before the cancer set it, before we had to watch him die years ago. I thought of what could have been with him, had he known. What could have been had I been born female. How I could have been Daddy's little girl instead of another son to toughen up, how he could have fussed at me for wearing too much makeup when I went out with my girlfriends or how he could have intimidated all of my dates simply because they were my dates. Because I was his little girl and fathers were overprotective of their daughters.

I thought of Ma. How we could have spent days bonding, painting nails. Going shopping. Having the talk. About boys. About my period. About what it meant to be a woman and how a woman should act. Of all the hugs and tender kisses I missed out on as a child simply because she didn't want to coddle me too much, simply because I was a boy that had to learn to not cry to Mommy whenever something went wrong.

I thought of Roxas. Of how he could have treated me with an overbearing sense of protectiveness instead of annoyance. Twenty-four-seven. Of how he could have been the one I told my secrets to when Ma and Grams wouldn't cut it, how he could have sworn to keep them because he was my brother and that's what brothers did for their sisters. I thought of how _different_ our relationship could have been if he could see what I truly was. Or if I had been born a girl.

If I had been born the way I thought and felt.

I thought of all these things while sobbing uncontrollably, my whole body trembling, pained gasps ripping themselves from my mouth. I kept thinking about it even as my bedroom door creaked open, even as footsteps sounded and someone approached me. I kept crying as I looked up to see Roxas. He had walked in with a solemn look on his face that told me he had heard my exchange with Ma. I saw he had my bag of clothes in his hand, carefully dangling from his fingers, and that just made me cry harder.

He set the bag aside, sat down beside me. Wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him, his chin resting on top of my head. And I just continued to cry beside him, still hugging my knees to my chest. Relishing the way he was holding me.

I don't know how long we sat like that. A long time, though. Eventually the tears slowed down, but they still fell. Eventually I didn't cry as hard, but I couldn't keep from gasping and shuddering every few seconds.

Roxas' voice was a whisper. "She's not trying to be mean, you know."

I didn't say anything, just nuzzled into him more. He sighed.

"She just doesn't understand it, Sora."

"N-no one d-does."

"It's hard to, you know?"

"It's n-not…f-fair. W-why does she h-hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you."

"Then why d-does she a-act like it?"

"We just don't understand it, Sora. We try to, but we just don't."

"It's not fair."

He moved his hand to my head, turning it just enough to plant a kiss to my forehead. That one kiss sent a shiver through my spine, caused me to moan the slightest bit. I shifted and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face into his chest. He was warm. Strong. He wrapped his arms around me as well.

He didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. Ma's words surfaced in my mind again, tormenting me. Cutting at my heart.

_Baby, why can't you just love the way you are?_

Because it wasn't me.


	13. SOS

**Riku; Y-O-U Are Making This Hard?**

"Sora, open the door."

"It's not locked."

Huh. I hadn't bothered to check the door when I'd made it upstairs, had just approached the brunette's bedroom and assumed it was locked. I found myself gripping the knob of her door, slowly pushing it open and slipping inside. Closed the door behind me so we could have some needed privacy. She was curled up on her bed, head half buried underneath her pillow and legs dangling over the edge. I took a seat on the other side of her, started running fingers through some exposed hair. "You okay?"

Which was a stupid question because she obviously wasn't, but I felt the need to ask anyway. Because that's just something you do, you know? She seemed so tired. Eyes were a little red. _Note to self: Rip Rox's balls off_.

Sora sighed. Rolled over, pushed her pillow onto the carpeted floor so that she could stare up at me. "I love them so much. They're my family. And I know they care."

"They have a funny way of showing it."

"They just don't get it," she finished with a heavy breath. Tanned fingers wrapped around mine, pulled them from her hair to her cheek. And I ran small circles on her warm skin, still quiet. Didn't know what to say. Well, no… There were plenty of things on my mind that I could have said, but I didn't want to. Now wasn't quite the time; now I just needed to stay quiet and let her vent.

Yet she didn't say anything for a while. Then, when she did, it came out as a slightly jumbled ongoing stream of thoughts that were probably suffocating her brain. "I want to get out of this house. Move away somewhere. You know? Do my own thing and live my own life. Just save up some money and pack some things, screw school and go somewhere far away from all the tools and jocks and posers and haters. I'd just drop out and forget about senior year. It's a year too long anyway. And I'd start new, get a different last name so no one would recognize me. Get a job in the city. Buy myself a nice house when I hit it big, you know? With a swimming pool in the back and a fancy green lawn."

"Have an affair with the pool boy?" I asked quietly, letting an amused smile spread my lips.

And she gave a small smile back. "Yeah. His name will be Pablo."

"Or Enriqué."

"And he'll have a sexy Latino accent and abs of steel. We'll make passionate love on the side of the pool and he'll call me _chica_."

"And where the hell do I fit in this equation?"

"You'll be the jealous husband who comes in and murders him when you find out. Then I'll have to cover everything up to make sure you don't go to jail. Maybe burn the body."

"We'd have to lie to the kids."

"Of course." She was playing with my fingers now, locking and unlocking them with mine, messing around with the tips. And she sounded a lot calmer now, looked a lot calmer. "We'll tell them that Pablo went on a long vacation."

"And what do we tell Pablo's poor widowed wife when she comes to the house and asks about him?"

"Hm… Haven't gotten that far. You'd figure something out, though, because you're the one that killed him. Plus you're smart."

I laughed, shook my head. "You're getting way too into this."

"I mean it, though."

"What, killing the pool boy?"

"Leaving. Away from…" A solemn pause. Blue eyes flitted across the room, towards the closed door. A sigh. "Away from everything."

"I know that feeling."

"I know you do."

"Hey."

She eyed me curiously, unmoving when I leaned down to press a kiss to her lips—but she turned her head at the last minute, made it so my mouth met with her flushed cheek instead. And I pulled back a bit, stared. Brushed my hair out of the way so that it wasn't falling on her face, giving her a worried look. "Sora?"

"Could you…" The words died on her tongue and she let go of my hand, let it drop by her side. There was this…this look on her face that I couldn't place, and it wasn't until she finished what she was thinking out loud that I understood. "Can I be alone for a bit?"

And it kind of hurt. I was here and open and ready to talk or listen. I wanted to stay here when she needed me most—because who else was going to sit down and talk to Sora like this? Who else did she have to turn to?

But I knew where this was coming from and gave a solemn nod. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You're leaving?"

"I need to get back home anyway."

"O…okay."

Then we kissed goodbye and I left the house with a heavy heart and a foul mood. The moment she'd asked me to leave was the moment things changed between us.

But I hadn't realized that then.

* * *

><p>"What the…"<p>

The door was…

I slipped my key out of the apartment door, slipped it back in and tried to unlock it. Wouldn't budge. Tried it again. This was the eighth time I found myself jiggling my key around in the lock, to no avail. What the hell was wrong with my key? Or was it the door?

I had half the mind to try and kick it open, but the moment the thought crossed my mind I could hear the locks of the door click in place from the other side. Then Mom was cracking the door open, peering out at me with a wary teal eye. All I could do was stand there for a moment, key dangling from my hand and my bag strung over my shoulder, staring at the woman with uncertainty. Then she let out a sigh of relief and pulled the door wide open. "It's just you."

"What up with the door?"

"Get in." And when I just stood there staring, she frantically waved her hand at me. "C'mon, get your ass in here!"

The hell?

Thoroughly confused I shuffled into the apartment, glancing over my shoulder to see Mom slam and lock the door once more. And I noticed she was still in her lay-around-the-house clothes, her baby pink pajama pants and a tank top with the words "Sweet Pea" printed in red on the front. Her hair was a messy mop of silver, lazily pulled back into a high ponytail. She looked like she hadn't gotten a lick of sleep. Which was to be expected. The woman had stumbled back home at seven something in the morning and just collapsed on the couch…

She let out an exhausted sigh, spinning around to wrap her arms around my shoulders, her keys jingling on her finger. And she pulled my back to her chest as I slipped off my shoes, nuzzling my cheek with her nose. "Where've you been all day?"

"School. What was up with the door?"

"I mean after school? You're never home anymore. It's weird."

"It's always like that, if you'd pay attention. And I was at a friend's house," I said with a sigh, a roll of the eyes. She seemed awfully…dodgy with my questions today. I tried shrugging out of the woman's grip, but she wouldn't budge. So I just made my way to the living room as best as possible with her hanging on from behind. "What the hell's with the door?"

"What friend? You should bring your friends over some time. I've never met any of them."

"Mom."

"What?"

"What. Is with. The door?"

"I had the locks changed."

And she said it so matter-of-factly, so simply, that I almost thought I'd misheard her. The woman sighed as she slipped her arms from my shoulders, as she plopped face first onto the couch with her feet hanging in the air.

Tossing my bag on the floor, I wedged myself in the corner of the seat, shoving her feet from my face. "What do you mean you had the locks changed?"

"Exactly what I said. I put a spare key for you on the kitchen counter, so throw your old one out." Her voice was muffled by the seat cushion. And even though I knew she couldn't see it, I shook my head at her before grabbing the remote from the cluttered coffee table, before switching the TV on.

"Why?"

"Greg."

Uh-oh. "Trouble in paradise?"

The question was answered with a loud, aggravated groan and a wave of her left foot—which I promptly grabbed by the ankle and shoved over the edge of the couch. She let her feet slide to the floor, head still buried in the cushion, hands folded in front of her. Then she was heaving a sigh and shifting to settle the side of her face in my lap. Pouting in a way that made her look even more child-like than she already was. "That man is so fucking _clingy,_ Riku. He's. Always. Over here!"

I snorted at that. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"I mean, at first I thought it was just because he liked spending time with me, ya know? And he's not like the other guys I've dated, not always about sex, sex, and more sex. But he calls me every single day, or texts me, and he's always asking to come over or go out somewhere. Or he wants me to drop by his place, and I can't keep doing that anymore, baby. Then he gets pissed when I ignore him, like I'm cheating on him or something."

"Are you?"

"Not this time, but GOD he makes me want to. I'd find someone who doesn't give such a damn."

Normally I didn't want to hear about her boyfriend troubles. Because they didn't concern me, not really. Not anymore. It was about her and him and whatever shit they had going on. And I hated hearing about what she _did_ with her boyfriends because no matter how she acted or how much she drove me up the wall she was still my mom. And there were some things you just **didn't** need to know about your mom.

Today, though, I found I didn't mind all that much. In fact, it almost seemed like a release for the both of us. A distraction for the moment. Thoughts of Sora still floated around in my head, but I pushed them to the back of my mind for the time being. Laughed mirthlessly at Mom's words. "So you snagged yourself an obsessive one this time. Aren't you lucky?"

She made a sound that was a half whine and half groan, tangling her fingers together with mine. "It pisses me off. I mean, I'm flattered and all, but there's a limit. I'm tired of seeing so much of him, you know?"

"So you changed the locks instead of talking to him like a mature adult about your space issues? Genius. Why'd you give him a spare key anyway?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, I just need to breathe. He's getting way too serious about this whole thing."

"Then break up with him."

"Can't. Not yet, anyway…"

"Then tell him to stop coming over here. Tell him back off."

"I don't know how…"

"It's not that hard."

"What if he freaks out and dumps me?"

"Then you're free."

"But I don't _want_ him to dump me."

"The fuck do you want me to do for you, Molly?"

And the way I had barked it at her made something in her snap because she quickly switched moods and pushed herself away from me. Got up to her feet with arms crossed, glowering. "I want you to fucking care for a change. God. Forget I said anything."

"I'll do that."

"Whatever."

And she sauntered off to her room, slammed the door shut, leaving me more upset than I had been when I first walked in. Somewhere during our conversation the mood had done a complete one-eighty. The need to lash out had suddenly taken over and patience had left me. I didn't know why, and I probably should have apologized because I was the one to start it this time. But…

Whatever.

* * *

><p>"You have reached the voicemail of…'Sora'… At the tone please leave your—"<p>

_End. Call again._

"You have reached the voice—"

_End. Pick up your fucking phone, damn it._

"…voicemail of…'Sora'… At the tone please leave your message. When you have finished…"

_What the hell's going on?_

"…hang up, or press pound for more options."

_Biiiip._

"Hey, Sora… It's me again. I know it's late and I know I keep calling, but it's been three days, so just… Call me when you get this, okay. Please?"

Shit.

* * *

><p>Was there something wrong with me? Was it healthy to be so wrapped up in one person when, not long ago, I hadn't really given a shit about the rest of the world and what it had to offer? Was it normal for me to be so worried about that one person, to think of nothing BUT them for the past week? That couldn't have been normal… So why did I feel so restless? Why couldn't I sit down and be content for a few minutes? Taking pictures nowadays didn't even help.<p>

The one thing in my dull life that was almost therapeutic for me wasn't helping.

I hadn't seen Sora since last week at her house. She wasn't showing up at Sonata, even though I hung around to talk to Aerith. The woman had said Sora took a break from work. But why? Whenever I dropped by the brunette's house, her brother was the one to answer. And he would tell me that Sora wasn't home, that she was busy with other things. Or, if she was home, that she didn't want to see anyone. And I would "kindly" tell _him_ that I'd much rather hear so from Sora than from him. And he would give me this look and reply, "It's best if you don't bother him."

And there wouldn't be anything stank about the way he said it, nothing snippy about his attitude. Roxas always seemed tired when he answered the door. No, he would tell me this with the calmest, most polite tone in his voice. And whenever I saw the look he gave me, I knew there was truth in his words. So I would ask him to at least tell Sora I had come and then go elsewhere. I tried calling, but Sora wouldn't pick up. I tried texts, but they went unanswered. I tried emailing, but there'd be no replies. It was just a mere seven days and I knew she had other things on her plate, but…

It was starting to drive me insane.

It would be with moments like those that I thought about Greg. Wondered if, maybe, I was being just as clingy as he was with Mom—or so the woman claimed him to be. Wondered if I was suffering some mild form of separation anxiety. Wondered if Sora was sick of me as well as her family, which wouldn't make sense to me. I could understand being tired of family, but why couldn't she vent to me? Why couldn't she talk to me?

I had a justified reason for being worried, didn't I?

"Happy April Fools!"

Ah. The girls had a way of snapping me out of my thoughts when I least expected it. It was just Kairi today, though. Clad in a pink Tweety Bird T-shirt, denim shorts, and a pink sweater tied around her thin waist. Her sandals slapped against the pavement of the sidewalk as she approached me after school that Monday. I hadn't quite left school yet, hadn't even caught my bus. So I was sitting out front by the entrance, figuring out where I wanted to go and how I'd get there. What I wanted to do. Other students were lazing around as well, waiting for their parents or siblings to pick them up.

I let out a sigh, not even bothering to glance at the red head as she set her purse beside me and took a seat. "It's the second."

"Belated, then." She crossed her legs and knit her fingertips together, examining me. Her smile faltered when she got a good look at my face. "Geez, why are you such a pooper today?"

"It's Monday. No one wants to be at school on a fucking Monday."

"Do you need a tampon?"

"Fuck off, lesbo."

"Don't be a douche."

"You started it." I stared up at the sky then, unblinking. Feeling lost for some reason I couldn't explain.

Spring had finally rolled around. I mean, it had already started but now was the time that it was actually showing. The sun was gently beating down on us; flowers were blooming on trees and in lawns; an overabundance in squirrels, bees, and ducks was to be noted. It was warming up more and more with each day, to the point where girls came to school in their tank tops and miniskirts and guys let their hairy legs hang free from their shorts. People would start making plans to go to the beach this time of year. For Spring Break, and for the summer. It was literally a couple months away, so it wouldn't be that long a wait. Maybe Sora and I could do something this summer…

"Seriously, what's wrong?" I could feel Kairi's sapphire gaze boring into my skin.

Adjusting my bag, I laid down with my hands folded behind my head, using the bag as a pillow. Thought for a moment. "Why are you still here anyway? Thought you usually rode home with Nam…"

"Her mom picked her up early for a dentist appointment," she said as she moved her things around. She lay down with me with her purse cushioning her head. Frowned. "Answer my question."

"I'm just pissy."

"But why?"

"I don't know. I just…"

Just what? Just everything? I couldn't very well tell her about Sora's family issues. About her issues in general. It wasn't my place to, even if I knew for a fact that Kairi wouldn't care. She or Naminé, neither of them would have a problem with it. Had I ever asked them? No. But that's just something you figure out about your friends, you know? How they'd react to something, how they'd feel. Then there was this shit going down with Mom that I still couldn't quite wrap my mind around. Even though it didn't concern me, even though she seemed to have the situation under wraps, even though it seemed like another one of her bad boyfriend mishaps… Why was I so disturbed by it? Why was it crossing my mind now?

I found myself wanting to spill everything, right there on the pavement. Just didn't know where to start. Kairi seemed to pick up on that, let out a breath. "Just life, huh?"

"Pretty much."

"It'll pass."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, but you get pissy all the time. And it always passes. So now shouldn't be different."

"You don't know that," I repeated in a whisper, slipping my eyes shut, scowling. "You really don't, Kai. It's driving me up the wall, too."

"What is?"

"Everything. I'm just tired of everything. I don't know _why_ and I don't know when this feeling started. I don't know what this feeling is or how to explain it, but it's there. I'm sick of it. I just want out."

"I think it's end of the school-year stress." And I could hear the slight smile in her voice, like she was amused by that fact on some level.

I just shook my head against my bag. "Whatever."

"Hey."

"What?"

"How's Sora?"

I didn't say anything.

"Haven't seen him or heard from him in a while, so… You guys aren't fighting, are you?"

"Dunno."

"Uh-oh."

I fell silent again, opened my eyes to stare into the cloudless sky. Some car, a white SUV, drove up by the curb, honked twice. One of the other students, a lanky sort of dude with a ginger ponytail hopped up with his girl, bent down and kissed her goodbye on the cheek before heading for the car. Then, when he had settled himself in the front seat, the car drove off. The girlfriend gathered her things and started down the sidewalk, towards the street. Heading home, probably. She grinned and waved at Kairi and me as she passed, causing the red head to wave back. "Later Liz."

Then, when "Liz" was gone, she looked back at me with seriousness written on her face. "So you and Sora."

"Don't worry about it."

"I can't not worry about it, Riku. Just a couple weeks ago you two were connected at the hip, now you're not sure if you're fighting or not? What's up?"

Did I really even know what was going on? I mean, on the surface, yeah. Family issues. Intense family issues. And, of course, there were those feelings of hers that she never really expressed out loud. I would get a little insight every now and then, little tidbits of whatever thoughts were on her mind at that moment—like that day on the swings. And I could pretty much try to put myself in her shoes, try to figure out the rest on my own. But did I really, truly know what else went on in that pretty little head? Did I really even _know_ what went on behind the walls of her house other than what she told me, other than what I saw? I mean, she'd been dealing with sixteen years of this…

"Riku?"

"If…" And it was coming out before I could stop myself, but I decided it would be okay. Probably… No, it would be okay. It needed to come out. "If I tell you something about Sora, you promise you won't say anything? At least, not to Sora's face, not until she comes out and tells you in person…"

"Yeah. Wait… She?"

I looked the girl in the eye then, calmly stated the truth. "Sora's a transgender girl."

"Say what?"

"Sora's a girl. Not physically, but she's a girl."

"Oh." And she looked up at the sky for a brief moment, seemed to shrug. "Well that explains a lot."

I couldn't help but laugh at her nonchalant reaction. "That's it?"

"Well, I had thought he was a bit of a queen when we first met. Um, she. Sorry. But he—she—isn't all that… What's the word?"

"Obnoxiously gay."

The girl burst out laughing, had to hug her stomach because she was doing it so hard. And I couldn't help but give a small smile at how amused she was by it all. She nodded, eventually spoke again when her laughter died down. "Yeah, yeah! Oh jeez. No, but seriously. He seemed really feminine, so. Yeah. But that's pretty funny."

"There's nothing funny about it."

"Not 'haha' funny, but weird funny. Coincidentally funny. You know? I mean, you're bi and Sora happens to be a chick in a guy's body. And you freakin' adore him—her. So you're a perfect match."

"What makes you say that?"

"You can appreciate both sides of her, right? Boy and girl?"

She had a point. She was right, after all. Sighing, I rolled over onto my stomach, resting my head on my crossed arms. "Hit the nail right on the head, there."

"Then why are you so upset? Did she not want to tell you? Are you just finding out?"

"No. I've known for a while. Since before we started dating."

"Huh."

"It's her mom and brother."

"Oh." Kairi let out a knowing whistle, scrunched her lips over to one side of her petite face. "Are they like my mom?"

"No one's as crazy as that Bible-thumping trophy wife you call Mother."

"Hey, at least she _tries_ to understand, you know?" She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Even though she's convinced you, Naminé and I are going to burn in Hell if we don't see the error of our ways and focus on our immortal souls. But back to Sora's mom. She seemed really nice…"

"She is, but doesn't get it. She or Roxas."

Kairi arched a slender brow in curiosity, folding her hands over her stomach. "Roxas?"

"Sora's brother."

"No way? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Well damn, Riku."

"I know." I buried my face in my arms at that moment, suddenly exhausted. Hot. It was getting way too hot out here.

Heard Kairi let out another breath, make a sound like she didn't quite believe it. Then, quietly, she said, "You really know how to pick 'em. Didn't even know Roxas had a brother. Wait, sister?"

"Just call him her," I said exasperatedly into my shirt sleeves. "She's a girl, Kairi. Nothing complicated."

"But it is complicated, isn't it? I mean…" A long pause. "That sort of thing's not easy to deal with, Ri."

I paused as well, thoughtful. Lifted my head to look at her again. "Yeah."

Then we fell silent, lost in our own separate bubbles of thought. She really didn't know, Kairi. She really didn't feel the weight of what was going through my mind right then, though I did think she had a vague idea. And I found myself a little envious of her, of Naminé. They always seemed so easy going, especially with each other. Even with their crazy families—which, really, weren't as crazy as I made them out to be—they managed to keep things from really bothering them, from really getting to them and under their skin. And I wondered how they pulled it off.

"You can tell Naminé if you want. Just, again, don't say anything about it to Sora. When she's ready to tell you she'll say so herself," I finally explained. "Hopefully…that won't be too long from now."

"Hopefully?"

"She's my date for Ring Dance."

"Is she gonna go in a dress?"

She'd picked up on that rather fast. "I'm buying one for her."

"Oh, Riku." The red head cooed at me, a goofy grin spreading her lips. Then, after examining my face more carefully, her expression softened to something more endearing. "You really like her, don't you?"

"I really do." There was no thinking about the response; it just came out. And it hurt knowing that when I thought about the past week. "I do, but we haven't talked for a couple days now. She won't talk to me, and I don't know why. I wish should would."

More silence, more thoughtfulness. Then Kairi was sitting up and hopping to her feet, grabbing her purse and holding out a hand to me. "C'mon."

"What?"

"You and me. Mall. Right now."

I rolled over again to grab her hand, let her pull me up. Once on my feet, I bent down the get my bag, slung it over my shoulder. "Why the mall?"

"Because I wanna go shopping and you have money."

"Not for you."

"Consider it a date."

"Your girlfriend won't be too happy about that," I said with a slight grin. She was already starting down the sidewalk, heading for the street, and I followed after her at a steady pace.

The girl waved a dismissive hand at me. "What she doesn't know won't kill her."

"Kairi."

"Yup?"

I wrapped my arm around the girl's shoulders then, pulled her into me as we walked. And she slipped her arm around my waist, leaning in. My voice was quiet, sincere. "Thanks for listening."

"You are quite welcome, Riku darling."

* * *

><p>Much to Kairi's displeasure, I didn't have a whole lot of money on me for her to suck down. And even if I did, I wouldn't have handed it over anyway. So we ended up window shopping for a majority of the time, wandering around in stores with all the haste of a drunken snail. There weren't many people around the mall this time of day, so there weren't any lingering crowds for me to be annoyed with. Eventually we found ourselves in the food court with a table cluttered with McDonald's drinks, fries, and sandwich wrappers. (Food. That was the <em>only<em> free thing I'd let Kairi sweet talk out of me.)

I was halfway through my fries when I spotted a familiar face across the court, saw the owner of that face walking arm in arm with some stranger I didn't know. Some strawberry blonde chick with wild ponytails and braids, colorful beads in those braids. A scarf wrapped around it. And she had on an insane amount of yellow and orange on. Orange Capri paints, canary yellow blouse, oversized tangerine purse. Yellow boots with—you guessed it—orange polka dots. But it wasn't the blonde I was looking at, it was the girl she had her arms locked with her. Sora.

Dressed up.

The brunette had the wig on this time, had fashioned it in to a low ponytail that hung down to the back of her waist. A white T-shirt with a cherry blossom print on it, beige skinny jeans, purse dangling from her shoulder. A large Panera Bread bag in her hand. Makeup done in a way that revealed that she had just been somewhere special, somewhere nice. And she was smiling, amused by something this mystery girl was saying.

They took a seat across the court, and I followed them with my eyes. Watched the way they were talking to each other, like they were good friends.

What the hell?

"What?" Kairi caught the look on my face, followed my gaze. Caught sight of the two settling at the table, unloading their food from their bag. The red head blinked, face scrunched up in curiosity before the realization hit. "Is that… Is that Sora?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, Riku… I mean I've always thought he—she—was cute, but she looks… She looks hot. Wow."

And I was angry now, because she seemed fine. Happy. Completely oblivious to the fact that I was here. And no, I didn't expect her to turn around and see me or anything, and I didn't care if she was out with a friend. But I'd been stressing and stressing this entire week, thinking she was depressed and angry with the world and everyone in it—and she seemed fine. I'd been worrying that she was holding so much in and didn't want to talk about it, and there she was probably talking about it to someone else. And maybe not even that. Maybe that girl didn't know anything about Sora, didn't know the truth. And if that was the case, then why was it okay for her to get attention and me to be completely ignored? Why couldn't Sora have at least contacted me if she was fine, at least let me know that she was fine?

But maybe I was thinking too hard about all of this.

"Who's that with her?" Kairi asked quietly, as if they could hear us from so far away.

Frowning, I shook my head. Popped a fry in my mouth. "Dunno."

"You want to go over and say hi?"

"Hell no."

"You want to give her space?"

I didn't say anything, just continued to eat for a moment. Kairi was still eyeing me with concern, a scowl painting her face. Then she was reaching across the table towards the back of my chair, for my bag. She dug out my phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Just hold on," she said, flipping it open and fiddling with the screen. Pulled up a number from my contacts, started texting it. Then she set it back down in the middle of the table, pushing aside our empty bags, so I could see the screen. **'Hey, how r u?'**

She'd texted Sora. In spite of myself, I looked back over at the brunette's table, at her and her friend. Kairi looked with me, curious. It was a moment before Sora glanced at the purse by her side, dug inside. Pulled out her phone. She looked at it a moment. A long moment. And her blonde friend said something that made her shake her head, made her frown.

I'd almost expected her to ignore it like the other texts I had sent, but she sent something back. Kairi jumped when my phone vibrated, looked down at it with me.

'**Can we talk later?'**

I arched a slender brow as the girl picked the cell back up. She eyeballed me. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say 'We can't talk now?'"

She sent it, and we glanced back up again. Watched Sora check her phone a second time. Waited for her to think about whatever it was she had to think about as her friend ate her sandwich. It was a moment before we got another reply.

'**Can't right now, I'm busy.'**

"Give it," I demanded without a second thought, startling Kairi with the sharpness of my voice. She hesitated.

"Maybe you should just wait."

"Give me the damn phone."

Then I was calling Sora, holding it inches from my face and glancing at her table from the corner of my eye. Watching the brunette carefully.

She took one look at her phone, saw who was calling, and hung up.

What the hell was her deal? What the hell was the fucking deal?

"Maybe she just wants some space, Riku," Kairi said quietly. Like that helped anything.

"She could at least tell me that."

"Maybe she doesn't know how."

And she sounded so much like my mother right then, reminded me so much of my mother and her boy toy that was starting to drive her up the wall as well. It pissed me off to the point where I slammed a fist onto the table. "How fucking hard is it to tell someone 'I need a break from you for a bit?' How fucking hard is that?"

"A lot's going on, right?" Kairi tried to soothe me, pressed her hand onto mine. "Just give her some time. She said she'd talk to you later, so she'll call."

I hoped so.


	14. Afraid

**Author's Note: **Three finals done…three more to go. On the same day. Meh. Almost there, thank God! And here's a chappy for you!

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; Please Understand That It's Not You, It's What I Do<br>**

I had called Ms. Aerith the day after…after Riku had left the house. Had asked for another leave from work, had said that some personal issues came up and I needed time to recollect myself.

"When will you be back?"

"I…" I swallowed, gripping the home phone tightly in my hand. Took slow steps from the kitchen and into the empty living room. Well, no, not completely empty. Sadie was a lazy bundle of fluff rolled over on her back at the very edge of the couch, tail curled up and twitching almost excitedly when I walked by to pet her. She wrapped her front paws around my hand as I let out a sigh. "Indefinitely. Maybe…not until summer starts."

I could hear the disappointment in Ms. Aerith's voice. Disappointment and concern. "Sora, is everything alright at home? You've been up and down this past month. I know you don't think I do, but I notice these types of things."

She didn't know the half of it.

"It's fine, I just need some time."

"Are you…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, and I could imagine her pressing the phone closer to her small mouth. "Honey, are you being abused? Because I have a friend who deals with that kind of thing. If you need to talk to me or her about it—"

"No, no! God, no."

"Because you don't have to be scared or anything, Sora. You have people who care about you, and I'm here if you need to talk. Always."

"I'm not being abused, Ms. Aerith," I told her sternly, disturbingly amused on some level by her response. I was glad that it was just me and the cat that Tuesday, because if Ma had heard she probably would have flipped. Or Rox would have given me a weird look. It was nice that she was so concerned, but she was kind of overreacting.

"It doesn't always have to be physical, Sora…"

And I didn't say anything and thought about that with a sullen attitude. Not always physical… I wasn't being abused…not emotionally. Was I? But Rox and Ma weren't making conscious efforts to… But did it still count? No…

My free hand paused in its petting movements, to Sadie's displeasure, and the feline started brushing her flat face against my fingers out of annoyance. I just wiggled my hand free from her paws, gave one last absent stroke to her stomach before rising to my feet. "I swear, Ms. Aerith, it's nothing like that."

"Okay."

"Thank you, though."

"You visit the shop, at least. Once in a while. We can talk over tea."

I smiled at that, felt the tug of sadness on my heart for some reason I couldn't explain. "I'd like that."

"Take care, Sora."

"You too."

I was quick to hang up after that, quick to head back to the kitchen to place the phone in its holder. And I felt a little sick, like I wanted to throw up…or lie down. Lying down sounded like a good idea.

So I went upstairs, ignoring the frumpy look Sadie was shooting me, and headed into my room. Closed the door and let my back sag against it as I thought for a moment, as I eyed my unmade bed. Then my gaze shifted to my desk, to the laptop nesting there amongst all the clutter.

I think I stayed like that for a good three minutes before I went to the desk instead. I needed to do something…

Usually I left it on so I could just flip it open without waiting for it to load up, so it didn't take long for me to open up IE and pull up Google. I started typing without a second thought.

'**MtF transition what do I need?'**

This wasn't the first time I'd thought about transition. No, not long after Dad had died… We'd all been depressed, Ma especially. But for me it had run deeper than just losing a loved one, it had been about never getting to tell him the truth. Because there had been a time, those four years ago, where I had wanted to tell my parents. That time passed away with Dad, though.

I had still done my research. Always. There were a plethora of sites that I discovered; information sites, chat rooms and forums, support groups, medical sites, news articles, blogs, vlogs… The world seems bigger on the internet. Seems more open, more accepting. There were so many sites, so many people I could talk to—but I never did. I was a people person, needed to see you face to face or else I wouldn't be that comfortable…

I knew about transitioning and I knew it wasn't easy. I knew there were steps, that it was a process. That it wasn't _for_ everyone, even though it was the most desired choice out of everything else. There were therapists and the doctor appointments, hormones and the Real Life Experience people had to go through. There were birth certificates that needed revising, and name changes, and social security records and businesses you worked with that had to be informed. Family that had to be informed. So much. Too much…

I wanted it. Even though it was a long road, even though that road was bumpy and rough, I wanted it. So badly. But that feeling of nausea gripped me again as I clicked on a video on youtube, a feeling that made my head spin and my heart thump against my chest.

The video, one of the first things that had popped up in the search, was three years old and completely soundless. A slideshow of a girl named Lani, a girl that had been a boy until three years ago. It went on for about four minutes, spanning pictures of her from 2008 to the present. And it was breathtaking seeing the change from such a handsome young man to the gorgeous twenty year old she was now. Various days throughout the years, just random pictures of her with the same couple of friends. Always smiling, wide and bright. And she had such pretty long black hair and such soul-sucking green eyes that reminded me a bit of Riku. Every picture a more feminine face and frame, more change in her slender figure because of her hormone treatment.

I wanted that. Passing wasn't enough. I wanted to transition…

And I looked up other things as well, explored some of the info sites and lurked on some of the chat boards. Thought about posting a little something, but I couldn't quite fight back the nervousness that washed over me whenever I came close to doing so. It was a while before I found this one site, _Laura's Playground_. Specifically for me. Just had that feeling. I registered for an account, chose Chilli Bean as my username. (Our cousin's nickname had been that when we were younger. I didn't know why it was the first thing that popped in my head, but I used it.) And I skimmed around the different boards before clicking onto "Introductions Forum."

Before I knew it, I was typing a brief intro for myself.

'**Um, so I'm new here. Obviously. Feeling really depressed again and thought I'd find somewhere to go and talk. I think I want to try hormones and get reassignment surgery, but my family definitely won't understand. So…'**

I didn't know how to finish it, but I left it at that and posted it anyway. Lurked around for a bit longer, checking back on my topic every few minutes to see if anyone replied. Because I needed someone who knew the feeling to talk to me, needed some advice from someone who went through the same thing.

Someone by the username Sunny-Side had been the first to respond.

'**Hey Chilli, welcome to LP! I know it's hard; we don't have it easy. But it's all about YOU and what YOU feel is right and what YOU want, so I say talk to your family about it. Go for it. People are always going to hate, judge, misunderstand but you gotta overcome that and be the strongest woman you can be. It'll take time for your family to understand—sometimes they never do—but don't let that hinder you…'**

And there was more, so much more. I found myself typing back to this kind stranger, just her because there weren't a whole lot of other people online. And we talked for what seemed like ages—in reality, maybe just half an hour. But those thirty minutes brought up my mood considerably, helped me out of the rut I was in.

Sunny actually lived in my area. I hadn't noticed until she mentioned something about checking out my profile, seeing the location I had listed. And she had asked me what city I lived in, what general area or district. I was amazed to find that, after I had told her, she wasn't that far away.

'**We're totally in the same city, yo. That's awesome! There's this sweet support group I go to every other Saturday that you could check out. Here, email me and I'll tell you the address.'**

Huh. I waited a moment before typing:

'**I don't know… If my mom finds out…'**

'**Mama don't have to know. You can say it's an after school thing or something. And if you don't wanna go, that's fine too. It's just if you want to check it out, see other people like us. You ain't alone.'**

Then we swapped emails, even phone numbers so we could text. Because something about Sunny _clicked_ with me, something about the way she talked—technically, wrote—to me… How do I put it?

There was the kind of close friends you made over a certain period of time. Then there were the close friends you made in a matter of minutes, the kind that you knew you'd never tire of. Sunny was the latter. She got it. Because she was the same. She definitely got it. And she was so endearing and encouraging about everything we chatted about, so open when I asked her questions about how she had come out to her family and friends. The more we talked the more sure I became.

It wasn't something I wanted. It was a need.

So after giving a grateful goodbye and logging off, I grabbed a marker from the pencil holder on my desk, searched for a notebook. I tore out a piece of paper from my notebook and made a checklist, taped it to the inside of my closet. So I'd see it every day, every time I opened it. There were eight items on that list with little squares I'd drawn beside each one, each unchecked.

**1. Find support group**

**2. Find gender therapist (at least 3 months)**

**3. Get "The Letter"**

**4. Start HRT**

**5. Throw out ALL my boy clothes**

**6. Find suitable doctor**

**7. Legal crap, necessary document changes…**

**8. SRS?**

It was short and simple and to the point, and of course it was subject to change a good number of times in the future…but there were so many other steps in between that had to be taken care of, so many dots that needed to be connected first. Like whether I should go to Sunny's support group, how I'd get there, whether or not I should let Rox and Ma know. If I would have the courage to go to such a group in the first place. Yes, they'd have to know. Eventually everyone would have to know… Where did I find a therapist? A doctor? Not just any one, not the family one we had now, but one that dealt specifically with people like me? Where did I get hormones, which ones did I take? Who would pay for all of this and how?

Was it worth it?

And I thought some more on those nagging thoughts in the back of my head, pushed them to the front and laid them out on the figurative table in my mind. I didn't **want** to be like this anymore. I was tired of it, sick of it, scared of it. To the point where I disgusted with what I saw in the mirror, disgusted with the world. I wanted to be me. Me. _Me._ Finally, freely.

But was it worth it?

Roxas already knew. Didn't get it, but had tried to. Still didn't get it now. Cared on and off. Ma… I didn't know what the woman felt anymore. Other than anger. Grams didn't know—or maybe she did? I wasn't sure what Ma ever told her nowadays. And my friends. What would they say if they found out?

Would Selphie go into an embarrassed shock? Would Olette follow suit? Would Pence try to laugh it off, say I had to be joking? That it wasn't serious? Would Tidus pretend like he hadn't heard a thing, pretend like nothing had changed? And Hayner? He was one of my closest male friends. Would he be able to look at me the same way, still be able to joke around me the way he usually did? Would they be okay with it?

Was it _worth_ it? All of that? Being alienated from friends, from family, from everyone? Was it worth having to risk society's negative reaction because of some stupid stigma others slapped onto people who had no control over who they were? Was it okay to even think about it now, when I still had one year of high school left? Wouldn't it make more sense to wait, even if it was slowly killing me inside? I wanted this so badly, but was it really okay? Was it worth it?

I had Riku… But. He got it. But. He loved me and I loved him… But.

Riku was one person. Just one, and that wasn't enough. One person's love and acceptance didn't take away the hate and rejection of everyone else. And it was horrible to think that, I know.

But.

But it might be easier living with this feeling for the rest of my life, might be easier being labeled as gay even though I wasn't. Or maybe I could try to make myself like other girls that way, try to live what constituted as a "normal" life in America. Settle down, get my wife pregnant, have children. Grandchildren for Ma, little reminders for her that I was indeed her son and not a girl, that I wasn't a freak and that all of this was a phase that would pass. Maybe it would be easier living a sham of a life, living a lie. Maybe it would be easier to just cheat myself out of happiness.

Maybe it wasn't worth it.

And I thought about that, stared at the list I had just taped inside my closet. Just stared blankly at it with all these different ranges of emotion rushing through me.

Maybe it was worth it.

Maybe it wasn't.

_Tear it down. Rip it up._

I almost did, but I stopped myself, let my hand hang in front of the paper. Clenched my hand into a fist.

_Leave it. Leave it, leave it, leave it… It's worth it._

_No it's not._

_Yes it is._

_You're better off…_

"Sora?"

And my brother had finally made it home. I didn't turn to face Roxas, though I knew he was poking his head inside. I could feel his eyes on my back, probably probing. I gripped the marker in my other hand, raised it back up again as I scribbled a ninth item onto my list. "What?"

"I wanted to talk."

"Don't feel like it."

"At least let me—"

"I'm not in the mood, Rox." And I turned to glare at him, catching him by surprise. The blonde frowned, narrowed his eyes as this hard expression crossed his face.

"I'm just worried about you. At least let me say that."

"Fine, you said it. Anything else?"

"…No."

"Then please leave me alone."

He waited a long moment, examining my face. Then decided it wasn't worth the argument and left wordlessly, slipping the door shut behind him.

It was then that I noticed I was a lot more forward than usual, that I was much shorter with my family than usual. Even with Riku, on smaller level…though I didn't mind seeing him, hearing him speak. Wanted to see him again, but… I needed a break from people. Wanted it. Especially from family.

So I looked back to my list, eyeing number nine. Wondered if I should add "sit down and talk with my family" as number ten, but decided that I'd deal with that speed bump when I got to that point in the road. I wasn't in the mood for it now or any time soon, so I just left the list as it was. Touched number nine with the tip of my finger before sighing and closing the closet.

Number nine would take time.

**9. Love myself**

* * *

><p>"I want to move back in with Grams."<p>

Ma blinked. Didn't say anything right away, kept washing dishes with an unreadable expression on her face. But I knew she heard me.

Wednesday night. That was the night I had made up in my mind, had taken everything Sunny—whose real name I had yet to find out—had said yesterday into heart and decided to approach Ma. The woman was still silent.

"Ma."

"I know…" She didn't look me in the eye, bit her bottom lip. There was a slight blush dusting her cheeks now. "No."

What did she mean no? "I want to."

"You can't just—"

"I called her last night and she said she wouldn't mind."

It had been the truth. Grams hadn't really asked me why, either—perhaps she already knew why but just didn't want to say anything. Her only request was that I get an okay from Ma first and foremost. Which was something I really didn't think was necessary, really didn't want to do. But here I was.

I needed a break from this family, from this house. If only for a little bit.

And Ma was looking directly at me now, studying my face with the same painful expression from…from that night. She dried off her hands, turned to face me with a slow shake of the head. Her tone was wounded. "You really hate us that much?"

"I just want out of the house."

"We can talk about it, Sora."

"No," I snapped quietly, narrowing my eyes. Crossing my arms. "No."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of you both."

"How dare… You…" Rage and pain and sadness flashed across her face all at once, and then that melted into something tired. Something tender. And I was having a hard time keeping up my tough front in front of the woman, especially when she made that face. But I held it together. "Baby, let's talk about it."

"I don't want to."

"Sora—"

"I don't want to talk to you or Roxas. Not right now. Because every time _I_ want to talk no one ever cares to listen. And every time _you_ want to talk, I'm supposed to shut up and let you have your say."

"Sora…"

"We can't _talk_ Ma. No one in this family likes to _talk_ about anything. We either yell or we ignore it and run away. We don't talk and we don't listen and I'm sick of it. I'm so sick of it, of you both. Sick of hearing you and thinking about you and _looking _at you. Sick to the point where I want to throw up. To the point where I legitimately start thinking about ways to kill myself so I don't have to deal with any of it. So I want out of the house to get myself together. I want to move in with Grandma Gina again, and I want to stay there until I can move out on my own and do my own thing. And if you still want to try and talk things out, too bad, because we had the chance to and you blew it. I love you, but you're gonna have to wait. Okay? So don't try to care now. Don't say sorry now. Don't try to _talk _to me now, because I'm not going to listen. Because you never did. Because it's not going to fix a damn thing.

"Now can I or can't I move back in with Grams?"

The silence and tension was so thick it hurt. Like it was crushing us both. It was so long before she said anything, so long that I was standing there with my heart beating frantically and my face growing red. Why didn't she say anything?

Then, silently admitting defeat, the woman turned back to the sink and started finishing the rest of the dishes. Bitterness in her voice now. "Why are you asking if you already cleared it with her?"

"She said I needed to check with you first. Yes or no?"

"Do whatever."

"Fine. I'm leaving on Friday."

"Tell your brother, at least."

"Tell him yourself."

Then I turned to leave, not really feeling any better. I heard the woman crying as I walked up the stairs.

* * *

><p>I wasn't talking to Riku. Why? I…really didn't <em>know<em>, to be honest. Not completely.

Well, that's a lie.

It's not that he didn't understand, because he did. He did and he tried to help me with everything. But maybe that was just it? Maybe I was trying to do something on my own? I mean, how much can you rely on one person for support? For how long? It's nice and everything, but eventually you have to learn how to pick yourself up, right? How to pick yourself up and keep yourself together without having to turn to someone else who couldn't really change things for you no matter how much they wanted to. Because Riku, as much as I loved the boy, couldn't change things for me.

And I didn't know how to tell him that. You know? How do you tell someone that without them getting hurt, without them feeling like you're trying to push them away completely? Because I didn't want Riku to feel like that, ever. I didn't want him to misunderstand, but I couldn't figure out how to tell him all of this without that happening.

Because of this past Monday, when I had last seen him. When he had seen me explode at Roxas before storming off to my room—still wasn't proud of that. All I had asked was that he leave me alone for a bit, just for a little bit so I could think…

"_Can I be alone for a bit."_

_And he looked hurt, offended. Then gave a solemn nod. "I'll see you tomorrow."_

_What? "You're leaving?"_

"_I need to get back home anyway."_

"_O…okay."_

And he had left. He took that as me pushing him away, and that wasn't it at all. That hadn't been the case at all. So if he reacted that way over something small, then how could I tell him everything else that was on my mind? Maybe that was why I chose to distance myself from the silvery haired teen. Maybe it was just depression. Maybe we both just needed a small break from each other until I could pull myself together, you know?

Didn't that make sense?

So I wasn't talking to Riku. Not yet. I hated myself for it, but…didn't know what to do.

For the rest of the week I pretty much focused on school and packing. I wasn't doing a complete clean sweep of my room, no, but I was taking care of the essentials. Clothes, shoes, lap top, books, games, music. Maybe a few posters. Depended if Grams was alright with me tacking stuff up on the walls again. I had folded and tucked my checklist in my pocket—it always stayed on me, somewhere, in a pocket.

I had to resist the urge to throw out my old underwear. I'll be honest, wearing bras and panties underneath my clothes from this point on did cross my mind. It would have at least made me feel a little better. But then there was gym class…but I could always change in one of the bathroom stalls and no one would know.

But I kept the underwear and went on with my packing.

Grams had driven up Friday afternoon to pick me up. She'd stayed over the house for a bit while Rox and I loaded my bags into the van, talking with Ma about who knew what. And Rox and I, instead of going back into the house when everything was loaded, just sat on the back bumper of the car. Staring at the quiet, empty street in our neighborhood, slowly kicking our feet back and forth while we waited. It was a little windy out, so I zipped up my jacket. Folded my arms together, let out a breath.

Roxas didn't meet my eye. "How long you plan on staying?"

I shrugged. "Don't know."

"But you're coming back, right?"

Why did he sound so…so upset? Almost… If I didn't know any better, I would have thought the blonde was about to cry. It kind of hurt. "Don't know."

"You have no idea, you know?"

"What?"

"You have no idea how weird it is, Sora. I've grown up right along with you, sixteen years, and not once have I ever thought of you as a girl."

_Don't tell me that._

"All these years I've seen you as a boy and nothing else. So it's weird trying to see you as the opposite, Sora, because I'm so used to calling you my brother. Mom's so used to calling you her son. Because she carried you and birthed you and cared for you as her son, treated you as her son, thought of you as her son. So it's difficult for us to treat you like a girl. You're a boy in our eyes."

"But I'm not."

"I know, and it's weird. That's why it's hard."

"There are other people that don't find it weird or hard at all."

"But I'm not other people, Sora." He looked at me then with those intensely blue eyes that ran in our family, and his voice was a little soft. Not judgmental or cold, just sincere and questioning. Like he was trying to figure things out. And it felt nice, you know, hearing him talk so openly to me about this. Because that wasn't something our family did—we didn't talk. There were the sporadic family meetings our mother called together once in a blue moon, but that had been something Dad had started. It was something we only still (sort of) did because he had made it such a habit in the past.

So hearing Roxas talk now was nice. I felt a little bad for not listening before, when he had wanted to talk, but that was then. This was now. And he was letting out a light breath as well now, fiddling with the draw string on his hoodie. "Ma told me you were leaving because you wanted to sort things out, and that's all fine and dandy, but… Don't just shut us out without giving us a chance, Sora. That's all I'm saying. We need time too."

"I… I know."

"So long as you know that."

"Boy, you better get your fanny off that car."

We both hopped up at the sound of Grams' voice, looked back to see the woman heading out of the house with Ma trailing behind her. Grams was pulling back her scraggly dirty blonde hair—it was turning grayer every time I saw her—into a ponytail as she approached the back of the van, shooting us warm smiles. Wasn't sure which one of us she had addressed, but I guess it didn't matter.

The seventy-something-or-other old woman pulled Roxas into a tight hug, mussing up his hair—"Grandma, quit it."—and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You be good. And call me once in a while; I'm not a stranger."

"Yes ma'am."

As the two of them continued to talk, Ma walked to me. Stood there with her arms crossed, a tired expression on her face. "You have everything packed?"

I just nodded. Didn't really look her in the eye.

"If you find out you forgot anything, just call and I'll bring it over."

"Okay."

"Hey."

Those fingers of hers were lifting my chin now, lifting my face to hers. And I couldn't help but stare questioningly into her face, thinking about Rox's words.

_Don't just shut us out without giving us a chance…_

Ma was still for a moment before pulling me into a bear hug, pressing her cheek to my head. And, in spite of myself, I wrapped my arms around her waist as well.

"You know I love you, Sora."

"I love you too."

"You can come back at any time. If you ever change your mind—"

"I know, Ma." I found myself giving her a reassuring smile, and for the first time today I felt like I was going to miss her… "It's not a goodbye, just a… A, um…a see you later."

"Will we be seeing you later?"

"At some point or other, yes."

And she held me back with both her hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly, and she gave me this somewhat unreadable expression—but I figured it was something motherly, something regretful yet proud at the same time… You know, like the look of a mother sending her child off to college for the first time and realizing that, yes, he was all grown up now. And she moved those hands to my cheeks, tilted my head up. "We'll be waiting for you."

I smiled against the gentle sting of wetness in my eyes. "Yeah."

"For Pete's sake," Grams cut in loudly, causing us all to glance back at her. "The boy ain't goin' off to war, Trina! You can see him any day."

And the three of us couldn't help but laugh at her outburst because she made the whole situation seem like it was nothing out of the ordinary. The way she had said it had been so light, so playful—I'd almost forgotten what it was like to share a laugh with my family like this. It brought me back to brighter days, younger days. Before…well, before everything had _really_ started to bother me, you know?

I exchanged one last hug with Ma and one awkward one with Rox, before hopping in the passenger seat of Gram's car. And the elderly woman pressed her hand to my thigh when she had buckled in and started the car. She pulled the van out onto the street as she glanced over at me, smiling. "You gonna be just fine, Sunshine."

"Thanks again, Grams."

"And what've you been eatin'? You skin and bone, boy. Need to cook somethin' when we get back. Pot roast sound good?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, 'cause you helpin' me cook it."

I found myself sinking ever so slightly in my seat as we drove on, as Grams continued to talk. We chatted about simple things, every day things. School and grades, homework. Whether I had some girl I was sweet on or trouble with friends. Movies I wanted to see or books I wanted to read. Any particular gifts I had in mind, since Roxas' and my birthday was coming up in May. And it was easy enough to answer back, because it wasn't much different from when I used to live with her. It seemed like I was ten years old again and still looking at the woman as my second mother rather than my grandparent.

Not once did she mention any of the trouble going on at home that I was sure she knew about. Not once did she ask me any questions or bring up any concerns that I knew she had. I didn't know how much she knew or how much she wanted to know, but she didn't say one word. I was grateful for that.

It was why I'd wanted to move back with her in the first place. Grams didn't ask questions. Didn't try to intervene or force her ways and thoughts on you, even though she was as opinionated as they came. Because she believed in letting people running their own course, even if she didn't agree with it, and I needed someone who would give me my space without any qualms right now.

She didn't have to get it; I was just happy she didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>I was super nervous about my first support group meeting. I'd been exploring around the site Sunny had given me ever since Tuesday. And even now, I would email or text her questions about the meetings, about how long she had been going there and what it was like. Whether it was specifically geared towards transgendered people or the GLBT community in general. Whether the people there were nice, what kind of things they usually talked about or did.<p>

Glenston Transgender Society, or GTS, was pretty laid back and open to any FtM or MtF individual—post-op or pre-op, transitioning or thinking about it; they didn't care. They met every other Saturday at the community center not far from Gram's house. They started at five, though people were more than welcome to show up as early as four, and opened up with a sort of Q&A session. Information about transitioning was provided specifically for people interested in learning more about it. Then they had a mingle session complete with food, games, casual discussions… And that went on for about an hour or two. Then announcements… Then, if you were up for it, you could go out with some of the members to a club or restaurant, or something along those lines. Just for the fun of it, dressed up or not.

The schedule was very straight forward, and from what I read on the site it was as laid back as Sunny had claimed. But I was still incredibly nervous. I didn't know _anything_ about this group, didn't know anything about what kind of people came to it. Yes, Sunny had said it was a small group and they everyone was extremely friendly. And yes, they were just like us—like me—but that wasn't enough to calm me.

That's why I was hesitant that Saturday about going. Had wanted to catch a bus to the community center. It took me all afternoon to finally decide to go, to pack a small bag with one of my dresses and matching shoes—hell, why not throw some makeup in there just in case? It was going on four-thirty when I told Grams I was gonna catch a bus out in town to meet some…friends.

The woman had insisted on driving me, no matter how much I assured her that I would be fine on my own. I didn't know if she could smell the white lie steaming from my lips or what, but she didn't ask too many questions and we were parked outside the center around five.

I hugged my bag to my chest, wary even though Gram's couldn't see inside it anyway. She picked something out my hair while asking, "What's this for again?"

"Just some friends I'm meeting. Um…" Didn't want to lie, but… "It might be a while before we're done…hanging out, though."

"How long?"

"Eight-ish."

"Mm."

And I took that as the good kind of "mm" as opposed to the "You can't be serious" kind.

"I'll just ride the bus back home. You don't have to come all the way back out here—"

"You better stay in a group then, you hear? It'll be dark out."

"Yes ma'am."

Then I pressed a grateful kiss to the woman's cheek and was out the door with my heart racing wildly, handbag cradled carefully in my arms. Grams waited until I was in front of the center's glass doors before slowly driving off, making my heart race even more.

No one was outside. Just six or seven cars, but nothing extravagant. Probably too early for that many people to show. Or maybe they were all already inside? It took me a moment to mentally collect myself before pushing into building.

It was a smallish structure with beige colored walls spiced up with the occasional painting or sign with an arrow pointing to specific destinations. The hallways were cozily narrow, leading into different meeting rooms set aside for whoever had reserved it for the day. The main hall had led me to the very center of the building, an opening with a circular information desk in the middle.

I wandered up to the desk, a little lost. It was only when a young woman approached me and lightly pressed a hand on my shoulder that some of my uneasiness died down. The smile she was flashing at me… Yeah, it took much of the unease away. She was pretty with her bright blonde hair swept back in a satin scarf, some braids hanging loosely from it. Beads in those braids. (How much color could she get in her hair?) She had on a long ruffled blue skirt that reminded me of one I had wanted to get at the mall a few weeks ago, a white T-shirt and a sweater much too big for her thin frame. Something about her…

She seemed to bounce on the heels of her feet. "Did you come out to play?"

And it took me a moment to figure out what she was talking about. I blinked, clutched my handbag tighter. "Um… I'm here for a support group meeting."

"Chilli Bean?"

I arched a brow. "Sunny?"

"Yup!"

The way her bright green eyes lit up was so amusing that I couldn't help but laugh, and at that point all nervousness left me. She looked to be a good couple of years older than me, but not that much. Maybe nineteen or twenty. She immediately held out her hand for me to take, and I shook it with a smile. "Sora."

"Pleasure meeting you, Sora. Name's Rikku."

"Ri… Spell that?"

"R-I-K-K-U. Why?"

Huh. I felt a small pang in my heart. "My boyfriend's name is Riku."

"Small world, small world, if he's stealing my name. But anyway." And she clapped her hands together, grinned a grin that made her so much more prettier—was she a trans-woman, or trans-man? I hadn't asked her. "The meeting's 'bout to start, so why don't I introduce you to people. Those your clothes?"

"Yeah."

"Did you want to change into them? There's a bathroom across from our meeting hall."

"Okay."

She led me to the girls' bathroom. The girls' bathroom— I could hardly believe it. I'd never been in one before. Had imagined what it would look like and smell like, but I had never been. To be honest it wasn't much different from a boys' one. Just no urinals or men shuffling to get their business taken care of and get out. There were two others inside, a teen girl with silvery hair that reminded me of Riku (hm…), and an older woman—a transgendered woman—adjusting her wig in the mirror.

The latter had given me a smile and a wink when I meekly shuffled inside with my bag in hand. And the younger girl, after washing her hands and drying them off, had a very reserved and stoic expression on her face—but she had given me a nod of acknowledgement when she headed back out of the bathroom. And that was it. No one, neither of them, found it strange that a boy was in the girls' room. Neither of them said anything, anything rude or disgusted at all. Not even when I disappeared into one of the stalls and later emerged in my dress and heels, not when I double checked my hair in the mirror—I wished I could have flattened it at least, but the spikes would have to do—not when I lightly applied makeup.

It was amazing. I can't describe to you the feeling. It was a different kind of emotional high than what I was used to, than what I'd ever experienced before.

Amazing.

It must have shown on my face when I emerged from the restroom fully dressed and with my other clothes now resting in my bag. Rikku, who had waited for me outside, let out a whistle when she got a good look at me. "I had a feeling you'd be, but _hot damn_. You look pretty."

I felt like I could die happy right then, couldn't suppress the bubbly grin that spread my lips wide. "Thanks!"

"C'mon, girly, time to show it off."

"Rikku?"

"Hm?"

"Are you…uh…"

"You can ask."

"Are you transitioning, or…" The only reason I had asked was because she had come across as knowing an insane amount of information when we had talked online and texted. Any question I had, she usually had a lengthy and detailed response, almost like she was a trained doctor or psychiatrist.

She had this sly expression on her lips as she started walking, as I followed after her. A rather pleased smile. "Post-op, baby."

My eyes widened. "No way."

"Way."

"Seriously?"

"Geez, don't sound too surprised," she joked with a laugh. "Five months since, hon, and I've been loving it ever since."

Oh my God. Oh. My. _God!_ She looked so…so…

_I want that. I want to look like a natural woman, to sound and act like one. She's so pretty. Oh my God…_

I had so many questions. So much to ask, so much to say, so much to admire. And she could tell all of this, was giggling because of it. The blonde shook her head, wrapped her arm around me. "You'll learn all about it in steps, Sora. Let's just get you settled into the group first."

I think I loved this woman.

She took me to the meeting hall for the GTS group. There was a table of refreshments set off in one corner. A flat screen television on a portable cart, some board games on oval tables. In the center of the room was a circle of chairs, where the other members were seated. Chatting. One of the young men there greeted Rikku as the two of us approached, greeted me. Then we took our seats and the meeting started.

It was nice knowing there were others like me. I mean, I _knew_ there were others like me, but not that they were so close. Not that they were so open and kind and accepting and just willing to _talk_ about whatever like this kind of thing was normal. It was like I'd found a place in the world where I clicked and fit in perfectly, you know?

The group was pretty small—just eighteen of us, three who were cross dressers, twelve transgendered ladies including Rikku and myself, and three transgendered men. In one case, maybe, boy; the silvery haired girl I had seen the bathroom earlier was actually in the process of figuring things out, so she didn't quite consider herself to be transgendered. But the possibility was there.

Everyone seemed to know each other already, but we still did short introductions—"For our guest's benefit," one man had said, nodding to me. Each one of us got a chance to talk about what was going on in our lives at the moment. Nothing in depth, just whatever crossed our mind, just whatever we wanted to share. As a guest, though, I just gave a brief description of my life. My situation at home, at school. How I was looking for some place to be me without being afraid of others finding out the truth. And they accepted that wholeheartedly.

Many of them were going through the same thing.

We spoke on different points. Those thinking about transitioning, those already in transition. How to cross dress with style and confidence. Dealing with family, friends, lovers. Makeup tips and good ways to bind your chest without it hurting too much. And casual topics like food and college choices for some of the younger members. What we liked to do in our free time. Things like that. The whole thing was geared towards getting us to know one another better, getting us to socialize.

It'd be a lie if I said I didn't feel like I had found a new outlet, a safe haven, a new source of friendship. In such a short amount of time, too, which I didn't think was possible. Just talking and talking, asking questions. Being seen as a girl in front of others just like me, young and older, biologically male and biologically female.

And when it was all done, when it was time to go, I stuck around to talk with Rikku some more. Found out that she had moved to our area three years ago specifically to have her operation, that she had had the full support of her mother throughout the whole process. And I wondered about that, you know? Wondered how her mother could be so okay with it and mine wasn't… But I didn't focus on that.

I asked her what hormones she took, where she got them. What doctor did she go see? Who was her therapist? How did I set up an appointment? Did I just call one and ask? How had she broken the news to the rest of her family, how had they reacted? How did she make it look so easy, look so simple?

"But it's not simple," the woman had told me while we were in the bathroom after the group had dispersed. It was late so I was taking off my makeup. Was going to change back, in spite of myself. "It's not simple at all. It's a process, the whole thing, and you've gotta be like _that._"

And she snapped her tanned fingers in front of the mirror, pressed her other hand to her waist. "You gotta be ready to _deal_ with it, Sora, because the process isn't easy."

"I know."

"Good. So go for it. Talk to your mom and granny and bro about everything, even if they don't want to hear it. Educate them. Let them _know_ that it's ultimately your choice, your life, your body. But let them be a part of the process, too."

"Why aren't you a therapist?" I asked with a laugh, wiping off the last of my eye shadow.

The blonde smiled amusedly, shook her head. (It was all real, by the way, her hair. She'd grown it out.) "I'm only spewing out the crap my therapist said to me, just not as phosisticated."

"Phosis… What?"

"Ya heard me."

She was strange. Just a very strange woman, and I loved her. Not in that way—though, if I ever loved another girl that way, it would probably be her—but she was like… How did I put it? Was this what having a sister was like? Yes, sisterhood. Friendship. I'd just met the blonde in person today, had only known her online for about a week, but I felt like I could call Rikku someone close to my heart. Could talk to her about anything and everything without her misunderstanding any of it—because she was going through and had gone through the exact same things. It was just that kind of connection.

"Hey, Sora. Are you free on Monday?"

"Hm? When?"

"Monday evening. We should hang some time. Go shopping or something."

"We could go to the mall," I suggested, causing the girl to beam and nod.

"The mall it is. We can meet up there, like, five-ish or something. That's when I get off work."

And when we'd finished making our plans, she hugged me goodbye and said she had to head back home. And, back in guy mode, I headed for the nearest bus stop before catching a ride back to Gram's place. And the entire time I was thinking about the meeting, about how I couldn't wait for the next one.

This was a group of people that got it.

* * *

><p>Still hadn't contacted Riku.<p>

I know I was still avoiding him, and it was killing me—but the feeling was still the same. I still needed my space, still needed my time to myself. My mood had improved incredibly thanks to the meeting on Saturday, but I wasn't quite to the point where I wanted to spend time with other people again. Including my friends, who probably noticed that something was off. Including Riku…

I tried not to think too much about it after school, around the time I would usually be working at Sonata—I missed Ms. Aerith, too. I had gone home to drop off my school things. Had flattened my hair but left it at that, had snuck my purse, makeup, and a spare outfit before telling Grams that I would be at the mall for a bit. (Dressing up would be a bit harder, since she was home most of the time…) Then I had caught a bus to the mall. Went into one of the family restrooms to change, had waited long enough to make sure no one had noticed that I had come in a boy and came out a girl. Then I met up with Rikku at the Panera Bread shop on the first floor.

The way we talked, it was like we hadn't been separated for two days, like we had just seen each other a few minutes ago. Like we had known each other for ages instead of days. And she had hooked her arm around mine as we headed upstairs to the food court to eat, as she started telling me some slightly exaggerated story about a crazy customer she had to deal with while at work.

I felt like a girl out with her girlfriend, her buddy. It felt so natural, so right… I guess I didn't really think of anyone or anything else but just enjoying myself with someone who got it, you know? That's why I was a little shocked when, halfway through my conversation with Rikku, my phone went off in my purse.

I pulled out the cell, read the text I'd been sent.

'**Hey, how r u?'**

Riku. My Riku.

For some reason I could only stare at the screen, couldn't get my fingers to move. I felt a frown tugging at the corners of my mouth, felt myself getting upset with myself again.

Rikku was eyeing me curiously. "What's up? Your mom or something?"

I shook my head, still staring at the screen. Thinking. "It's my boyfriend."

"Is something wrong?"

"We…we haven't really been talking. Well, I haven't been talking to him."

And she gave me an unreadable expression, stared at the phone for a moment. "Answer it."

I did. Couldn't quite think of what to say, so I just took the easy way out. **'Can we talk later?'**

A pause. Then another text.

'**We can't talk now?'**

I couldn't. Not here, not until I could figure out what to say. And what if I didn't figure it out, huh? The longer I put things off, the more of a misunderstanding there would be. The angrier he'd be. I didn't _want_ Riku to be angry with me…but.

'**Can't right now, I'm busy.'** Then I flipped my phone closed and tucked it back in my purse.

"What is it you can't say to him, Sora? What's bothering you so much?" The other Rikku, my blonde companion, was speaking in between bites of her sandwich. Took a small sip of her drink. "Or is that too personal for me to ask?"

"No, it's just… I don't know. There's so much going on and I need time to figure it out."

"Then tell him that."

"But I can't. I can't just…" How did I say it? I sighed, poked at my sandwich. No longer hungry. "How can he accept me if I can't accept myself? How can I love someone if I can't love myself, Rikku? How does something like that work? He's always showing me support and he's always there for me, but he's got crap going on in his life too. What if I want to be there for him and I'm too focused on my problems? How can I support him if I'm always _relying_ on him to make me feel good about myself without ever feeling good about myself on my own?"

And she said something so matter-of-factly that I didn't know how to reply. "You won't have anyone to rely on if you don't _tell_ him that, Chilli Bean. He's a guy. Guys need to be told these types of things or they're completely lost. And then he'll get pissed, then you'll get pissed because he's pissed, then everyone's pissed. And that's just a pissy situation, if you ask me."

She made everything out to be so simple… Why couldn't I be this woman? Why couldn't I be like her?

Before I could think any more on it, my phone rang. Loud. I'd jumped at the sound of it before hastily digging it back out, glanced at the screen. Riku again, only he was calling this time. Hung up.

And the blonde across from me made a sound of annoyance, plopped her sandwich back down on her bag. "_Answer_ it!"

"Not now."

"Then when?"

"Later…"

"You should talk to him, Sora." Green eyes were stern yet filled with concern. "The whole thing's a process. You gotta let him be a part of it."

"I'll talk to him later."

"Mm."

And it wasn't the good kind of "mm," but I figured I'd deal with the situation when I got home. Not now. With me it was always "I'll do it later, not now. I'll deal with it later, not now." Not now, later. When it's more convenient, when it seems easier. Not now, but later. Always later, sometimes too late.

Maybe that was the mistake.


	15. All I Need

**Author's Note:** Hullo, hullo again. My last exams are tomorrow, and then I'm free! Be happy my duckies! But on another note, I just wanted to clear something up that's been bothering me a bit. It's not everyone, but every now and then in reviews Sora is referred to as a he/him, and I just find it a little irksome because it defeats the whole purpose of me writing this story.

I'm not trying to be mean or petty or anything, it's just that I find it disrespectful to Sora (as far as this story goes). It's not just a matter of her wanting to be a girl—she's _always_ been a girl and always will be. It's just that right now she's actually taking steps to make the outside match the inside. The whole reason she's been struggling is because the people around her only see the 'boy' that never really existed in the first place. They see it as 'HE wants to be a girl' not 'SHE wants to look like how she was supposed to be born.' So I'm just asking that, from this point on, everyone refer to Sora as a she and not a he; just for the sake of the story, and for the sake of other transfolk that sympathize with her.

Again, I'm not trying to be mean or anything. It's not everyone and I definitely don't want to single anyone out for their use of pronouns. Just for future reference, okay? As always thanks for reading. You all are awesome!

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; Don't Tear Me Down<strong>

Maybe I was just clingy.

I'm sure that was it. I was just a clingy, overemotional person and was realizing it a little too late. Maybe Kairi was right. I did need to give Sora her space and calm it down a little. With time she'd talk to me again, open up some more, tell me what the deal was. Maybe I just needed to focus on me right now. Like I've always been doing. Maybe I just needed to give up that one spark in my life for a little bit and go back to my boring old routine, wishing for something else. Wishing that something would change. Wishing for my old spark to come back.

But I needed that blue eyed spark.

I figured, if anything, we would sort things out today. I'd caught the bus home after leaving the mall with Kairi, after telling the red head that I'd see her tomorrow. That I had something to take care of. Then I texted Sora and told her I'd be waiting for her at the playground when she was ready to talk. Face to face, none of this over the phone shit. Because I needed to hear from her mouth what all of this was about, needed to see her in front of me.

'**It has to be today, Sora.'**

'**Or what?'** She had texted me back. My answer was short and simple.

'**Or I'm not waiting for you anymore.'**

Harsh, maybe. Pushy, perhaps unnecessary.

But, like I said, maybe I was just being clingy.

So one could find me sitting on one of the swings that evening, when it was still a little light out but the potential for darkness to take over was steadily rising. No one was around—it didn't take one long to realize that this particular playground was rarely used. By anyone. I sat there for probably twenty minutes before I heard the tell-tale sounds of shoes crushing onto the dry grass. Looked up to see Sora, still dressed up. Except she'd taken her wig off, probably had it tucked in the purse dangling from her shoulder. The tips of her chocolate spikes seemed to droop, shifted a little in the light breeze.

She just stood a few feet in front of my swing, an apologetic expression on her rounded face. Frowned. "Hey."

I rocked back and forth a little, just as quiet. "Hey yourself."

And we didn't say anything for a while, just stared at each other. Feeling…something. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what emotions were running through me. The pissed, exhausted, restless feeling from earlier today was starting to well back up, but it died down when I studied the way Sora's eyes fell to the ground. The way she bit her bottom lip or how she shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"Riku… Look, I'm sorry. I should have at least called you at some point. I should have told you what was going on."

I didn't like these words. "What _is_ going on?"

"I'm trying to… No, I _am_ going to fix…" And she paused for a moment, thinking how to phrase it. Took her hand and made a gesture bringing attention to her whole body. "Well, all of this. I'm gonna start hormones, get corrective surgery later on."

Huh. That was the first I'd heard of it. From Sora's mouth, anyway. Was that all it was? Was that the entire reason why she had ignored me this whole week? My swing was still steadily rocking as I asked, "When?"

A shrug—though the look on her face told me she had some idea. Then the brunette was taking small steps towards the swing, was seating herself in the one beside me and setting her purse by her feet in the sand. She gripped the chains lazily. "It takes a while. At least a year, but I'm gonna work on it. And I found a new friend, someone who knows a lot about the whole process."

"That chick you were with at the mall…"

"Wha… You saw us?"

"Why'd you think I texted you when I did?" _Don't get angry, Riku. That's not what you called her here to do; you wanted to talk it out. Stay calm._ And it was hard to, you know? I kept thinking of the scene earlier in the mall, thinking about the damned gleeful and goofy and gorgeous smile she'd had on her face when she was with her friend. I kept thinking about how content she'd looked right then, like she hadn't a care in the world. I kept thinking about how it hurt to see that after worrying so much, after being kept in the dark for what felt like ages. But I stayed calm. "You two seemed awfully close."

"She's just a friend from my support group, Riku." The words were sincere; I could just tell. She caught my gaze in hers, stared at me with this determination written on her face. "Besides, I don't like her like that. I'm straight; I don't like girls."

I didn't say anything, merely waited for her to go on. And she did, slowly turning her eyes down to her feet. Clicked the heels of her shoes together, flexed her toes.

"I just wanted space. Still do. I just… I want to be able to be _me_ around you, Riku, and not have to worry about other people finding out or judging us. I don't want to keep sneaking around acting one way and then pretending to be something I'm not when I'm with everyone else. Because that's not fair. I should be able to be me all the time and not just with you. So I wanted time to sort that out, you know? I want to get things with my family straight and start hormones, start everything I need to in order to fix this. That's the only way I'll be comfortable."

"So why the hell didn't you say that from the start?"

"I didn't…know how to tell you." She sounded so much like my mom. _I don't know how… _So much like Kairi. _Maybe she doesn't know how._ But that shouldn't have been the case, because I was always here to lend the ear. Didn't she know that by now? Her voice dropped a little, solemn. "You would have thought I was pushing you away."

"But you pushed me away by not saying anything."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"I'm sorry, Riku… I just…"

"Look at me." And she did, holding back tears. Biting her lip again, gripping the chains of her swing so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. The cool expression on my face didn't change, though, as I patted my lap. "Come here."

Carefully she got up from her swing, settled herself in my lap. Unsure of herself, unsure what was about to happen. Still looking like she was about to cry. And I stopped rocking the swing then, sat still when she leaned her head against my shoulder and let out a deep breath. I could feel the heat from her face, feel her heartbeat. Resting my head on top of hers, I muttered, "Next time you got something like that on your mind, you _tell me_. Alright? You can't play around with me like that, Sora. I don't look it, but I break pretty fucking easily."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I know."

A long moment of silence in which both of us were stumbling around through our sea of thoughts, grasping for something to make sense of. Fumbling for that something, not quite realizing what it was but gaining a general understanding of it all the same. She felt so warm against me. The weight of her in my lap… It was comforting. But only for so long.

I slipped my eyes closed. "So. What? Are we taking a break?"

"Yeah… Yeah."

"Just until you can get your shit with your family together, right?"

"I don't know, Riku." I felt her move her hands from her own lap, move one of her arms to wrap it around my shoulders. Felt her nuzzle her nose into the crook of my neck, felt the light layer of gloss on her lips press onto my skin, felt the hotness of her breath as she spoke. "I don't want to, but I can't focus on both… I can't explain it. It's like…like, if I try to focus on my problems right now then that's going to leak into the relationship and ruin it. Like the other day…"

The day I'd left her house… "When you said your mom yelled at you."

"Yeah. I don't want that tension to be there between us, Riku. I wanna fix it first before I focus on us, and only I can do it. Not you. I'm glad you're there for me when I need you, but it has to be me."

"You want to stand up on your own. I get it."

There was so much appreciation in her eyes when she looked up at me. "I love you so much. You know that?"

And instead of saying "I love you too," I pressed a deep kiss to her lips, ran my tongue along hers. Lifted a hand and knit my fingers in her hair, bringing her face closer to mine. And she had both arms wrapped around my neck now, was slipping her eyes shut with me, kissing back with just as much fervor and raw need. And it'd felt like that night we had made love, felt just as breathtaking and heart stopping…

When we finally stopped, Sora blinked back with amusement in her eyes. "You missed me that much?"

"Damn straight."

"I missed you too."

"I'm gonna miss this."

"It's not over, you know." She paused to crush her lips to mine again, a chaste kiss. Voice soft, reassuring. "It's not the end of the world or anything, Riku."

That didn't make the tight feeling in my chest feel any better. "I can still call you?"

"Whenever. Just don't blow up my phone."

"And we're not seeing other people—"

Her nails bit into the back of my neck. "Hell. No."

"Just so we're clear," I said with a laugh and a smirk. And the girl pressed her forehead to mine, seriousness taking over. Like she was hurt by the joke, even though she knew I was kidding around.

"I don't want you seeing anyone else. You're mine."

"And you're mine. You can take as long as you need." My palm found its way to the brunette's cheek, caressed it.

"But you're mine, Sora, so don't you ever forget that."

* * *

><p>"You and Sora broke up?"<p>

What was with these girls and screaming things to the heavens? Was it too much to ask for them to keep it down during lunch time, especially when I was disclosing some personal information to them?

But no, Naminé and Kairi were pretty much reacting exactly as I'd predicted they would that Tuesday afternoon, both wide eyed and somewhat hurt by the news I had casually loaded onto them. It was amusing and heartbreaking at the same time, but I just stuck with my neutral expression and took a sip of strawberry milk.

"We're not breaking up. We're taking a break. There's a difference."

Naminé shook her head, leaning forward in her seat. At some point yesterday Kairi had probably explained to the girl Sora's situation. That was probably why she seemed more upset by the news than her girlfriend. "But why?"

"She needs to sort things out, and she wants to do it on her own. So I'm letting her do that."

"Yeah, but…" Kairi pressed her chin into the palm of her hand, absently poking her spoon into her mashed potatoes. "I mean, you don't have to stop seeing each other altogether, you know?"

"You won't get it," I said quietly, sighing.

A stern frown. Narrowed blue eyes. "Enlighten me."

I didn't tell them the entirety of the conversation Sora and I had had the other day—there was just so much, and it felt so… Well, so personal. Kairi and Naminé were close friends, but it the feeling that had washed over the brunette and me the other day. I didn't know how to explain that, how to put it in words.

So I just shook my head and settled with the simplest explanation I could muster. "Sora wants space, wants to take the time to at least put herself on the path for living as a girl full time. And if she thinks she needs to take a break from us to focus on that, then I'll let her."

"But you look miserable, Riku."

I didn't say anything to that. Took a bite of potato and stared uncaringly at the two of them.

I understood their concerns, got why they were so worried. What they were getting at. Yes, Sora and I could still see each other. Just not do any of the things a couple would do or anything along those lines. We could still text and call and chat—and even though I had asked if I could call her, I would make an effort not to do it too much. Because if we heard each other's voices or continued to see each other, wouldn't that defeat the purpose of taking a break in the first place? Wouldn't that just make it harder for her to focus on her own problems, her own issues while not on me? I got that, understood it. She needed her time, her space, and I needed my own…

And now I was in that foul mood again, ready to shut it all out. Because even though I understood all of that, it still hurt. It hurt that we couldn't see each other—because there was a mutual agreement not to; it was just better that way—and it hurt that I was so strung along that I couldn't be happy for two fucking seconds without thinking about her.

Was I becoming like Mom? Constantly needing someone to be content? Was that what this was like? Was I becoming like this _because_ of my mother?

Before I knew it I was disgusted, no longer hungry. No longer able to focus on much of anything. I gathered up my tray of leftover food, grabbed my bag. "See you guys later."

Kairi blinked at me curiously. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"School's not over yet," Naminé explained with a hint of fear in her voice, but I didn't care. I just didn't care right now.

"I'm leaving anyway. See you guys later."

"Riku!"

"Just let him go. He won't listen anyway…"

And Kairi was saying something else to her blonde partner, but I was already tuning them out by the time I'd made it to the trash can. Dumped my food, headed down the hall. Headed for one of the back halls that the monitors didn't check that often, because you weren't supposed to leave campus when school was still in session. But I just didn't care.

So I snuck into one of the back hallways after getting my things, decided to skip my last two classes, and was heading for the bus stop down the street not long after.

* * *

><p>She had another man over. Again.<p>

I had had it up to fucking _here_ with this woman, really.

I figured Mom would have been out when I made it back home from school, but that wasn't the case. I'd noticed the two of them the moment I walked back into the apartment. Some caramel skinned man with cropped black hair, pretty green eyes. His back pressed into the cushions of the couch. And Mom was about to go down on him, I saw; had her petite figure curled up above him, was unzipping his pants with her teeth. But she stopped when she caught sight of me, eyes a little wide. Angry.

The man seemed to notice her hesitation, followed her gaze. Shot up when he caught sight of me by the door, shocked. His voice was raspy. "Who's the kid?"

"Her son," I answered shortly before Mom could say anything, tossing my bag by the kitchen entrance. "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, just…" Mom was up, pulling back her tousled silver hair into a bun, fixing the loose fitting blouse she had on so that it covered everything up properly. Fixed her skirt so I wouldn't have to see— I didn't even want to think about it. I just glared at her as she tried to brush it off, as she waved a hand at me to shoo me away. "Just go somewhere or something. Go out with your friends or something."

Wanted to yell at her, wanted to do something. Wanted her to _hurt_ because right now I was hurting for reasons she probably wouldn't understand, was hurting because of her, because she didn't realize it. I was scared, so scared, because I wanted to hurt her. I've had thoughts like it before, but it was always… How did I put it?

Never before had I legitimately want to lay my hands on my own mother and beat her. Not like this. That wasn't me. That much anger, that much blind rage—that wasn't like me at all. Truly, it scared me.

So I took a moment to calm myself, counted to ten in my head. Ignored the bemused stares Mom and her…friend were both shooting me. Then, quietly, I said, "You told me this morning that you had a date with Greg tonight."

And Mom's eyes got wide at the mention of the man, her expression cold. "Riku!"

"Wait." Her male friend, her booty call, arched a bushy brow. Looked just as upset as I was, sounded just as upset as Mom was. Was rising to his feet. "Greg?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Oh yeah, but you stopped calling him, right?" I went on, determined not to let this go. Because she was pissing me off, and if I couldn't hurt her physically then I'd do it emotionally. "Why was that again? Didn't you mention having to take an HIV test or something?"

That was more than enough for the man to shake his head vigorously and dart for the door. "Shit."

And I was lying, but it was still amusing how quick he was to believe me, how rattled he was by my words. It was satisfying.

"He's just screwing around, don't listen to him!" Mom was following after him, grabbing onto his arm. And I moved out of the way, walked over to the couch as the two shuffled around near the door.

"Fuck off," was the only thing the stranger choked out before he shook his arm free and trudged out the door. Mom stood there, staring at it for a long while.

Then the Devil flew into her and she rounded on me, silver hair shaking free from her bun and whipping at the air. "Fucking— SHIT, Riku! What's your damage?"

"You need to find one man and fucking stick to him, damn it." My calm was wearing off as I took shaky steps towards her, as she took angry steps towards me. "And not just _any_ God damn man, Mom. Why do you think they always leave you, huh? You keep bringing trash home—what do you expect to get, huh?"

"It's _MY_ life!" She seethed, practically hissing. Pounding a hand to her chest. "_My_ life, Riku!"

"One hell of a fucking _life_!" I threw my arms up, screaming. Getting in the woman's face, but she just pushed me back some. That didn't stop me from yelling. Because she was fucking _**selfish**_, and I was just tired of it. "Look at this place, Mom. We've been living in the same God forsaken apartment for over sixteen years! We haven't moved _anywhere_ in life since. You're stuck chasing after something, some 'true love' shit you're too fucked up to find, and I'm stuck here worrying about your dumb ass because you make stupid choices. All your life, stupid choices! I'm not supposed to be the fucking grownup in this relationship."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Grow up! Get your life together so I can live mine! I need to _breathe!_"

"Fine." Soft, now, her voice. So soft and yet so sharp, it hurt. It cut at me. She grabbed her purse from the coffee table, turned to leave. "Breathe all you want, pretty boy."

"Where are you going?" My voice was so hoarse now, so tired. I felt so tired.

The woman didn't look back at me as she stomped over to the door. "Like you give a flying fuck."

At the time, I didn't. At the time I was just so angry at her, at myself, so disgusted with everything that I really just didn't care at all where she went or what the hell she did or who the hell she did it with. At the time, I figured I couldn't change her but it didn't hurt to vent and yell and scream like she and my father had when I was so much younger. Because that was all I knew. So I didn't say anything or do anything or _care_ when she stormed out the door and slammed it behind her, when she left me all alone.

I just let her walk out before going to my room, taking out my cameras, and deleting every picture of her I had.

* * *

><p>I hadn't seen my mother in four days.<p>

She hadn't called, hadn't texted, hadn't left any sign at all that she was at least visiting the apartment while I was out. In fact, she'd left her cell; I'd only realized this after I tried calling her and hearing it ring from her room. She just wasn't around. At first I figured she had gone off to see Greg or whoever else she was slinking around seeing behind the scenes. I'd been so pissed at her on Tuesday that I hadn't even bothered worrying about her. Figured she was fine, taking care of herself. Figured she was just as pissed at me and needed her space.

But it was Saturday now and I was kind of freaking out.

I called The Boutique, Mom's club, and the manager had told me that she hadn't seen the woman come in for work for a number of nights now. He'd told me that I'd better make sure that she came in, or she wouldn't have a job to come back to. I remember shortly replying that I'd take care of that before hanging up.

I called the real estate lady whose name I could never remember until I was told or reminded—Katherine Mead. Her personal number, not her office; I only had it because Mom still had it punched in her contacts. Katherine hadn't seen her. Had made it clear that "Molly and I don't _talk_ anymore…but I hope you can get in touch with her." I didn't talk with her too long, hung up.

I called some of the other friends she had listed in her phone, got the same answers from each of them. They hadn't seen her, hadn't heard from her.

I was starting to really freak out.

There was a chance that she was completely fine and just steering clear of the house completely. But she'd only taken her purse, not her cell. Then again, she had money, her cards. Very easily… She could have run off and started fresh somewhere, very easily. But she wasn't that selfish.

Was she?

Or she could be hurt. She could have gotten mugged and beaten and… What if someone had grabbed her? What if they took her somewhere, anywhere? What if they raped her? How the fuck would I know? What would I—would I even be able to _do_ anything if something like that happened? Why the _fuck_ hadn't she at least taken her phone with her, God damn it!

This wasn't fair… I shouldn't have had to worry about any of this. She should have dragged her ass back home after she cooled off on Tuesday, should have apologized to me—and me to her—then we could have gone back to normal. Things could have gone back to normal and we would have been thrown right back in the tide of love you again-hate you again emotions. She shouldn't have changed the status quo, the grand scheme of things.

She wasn't supposed to step out on me like my father had. That's not how it worked.

I called the police. I had looked around online before hand, had double checked all throughout the day for information on how to file a missing persons report. Picked up the phone around seven that night, hoping someone would be able to help me. They would have to listen if I told them my mother was missing, right?

The officer that answered was nice. Patient the entire time I explained the situation as calmly as I could. My mother and I had had a fight four days ago, and afterwards she had grabbed her purse and walked out. I hadn't seen her since. It's possible she'd stopped going to work before that, though, and none of her friends had seen or heard from her.

I'd heard the officer typing all of this information and more away into her computer. What did she look like? The color of her hair, her eyes? Height and weight? Any scars or distinctive markings, piercings that I knew about? Did I have a picture I could bring in? (None on my cameras. Not after that day... But I did have an old picture or two on my computer, so I printed those out.) Any close friends or relatives that she might be staying with? (None that I knew of.) Any strange behavior on her part in the few days before her disappearance? Had she been threatened, put in any danger? Did she feel threatened by anything at home?

Eventually I got frustrated with talking over the phone and went down to the station. Printed out both of the recent pictures of Mom that I had on my laptop and then caught a bus. Stepped in to find the officer I'd been talking to waiting at her desk. And we sat down and talked some more. She seemed a little disturbed that I was so young, I could tell, but she didn't say that out loud. Just asked me if I had someone else to stay with, or if it was just me.

I remember telling her that I had a family friend staying with me, someone much older, and she just kind of left it at that.

I didn't want her to know that it was just me… Just finished filling out the report with her then caught a bus back home. She probably would have had me put into police custody until they got a hold of my mom—or maybe not; that seemed drastic. Maybe she would have put me in a shelter—and I just wasn't doing that. I hated my apartment and wanted to leave it with a passion…but that was my home. As much as I despised the whole thing, that was still my home and I had nowhere else to go…

Plus there was always the thought gnawing at the back of my head, that possibility of Mom coming back home and finding that I wasn't there. Because as fucked up as the woman was, as selfish as she was, as messed up as our relationship was—I didn't want Mom to come home to an empty house. I didn't want her to come home and not have someone there for her, not have _me_ there for her. Because someone needed to watch out for her sorry ass.

She was still my mother. Wished she would act like one…

So it was just me in the house that Saturday night, lying in bed. Staring at the ceiling blankly, my old camera resting on my stomach. My fingers were lightly moving around on the device, restless, but other than that I was completely still. Tired. Worried. Scared? I didn't do scared.

But I was.

The thought of calling Sora crossed my mind for a split second—but I ignored it. Then I wondered if I could call Kairi or Naminé, maybe just keep them on the phone for an hour or two until this feeling went away. Ignored that thought too.

And suddenly I couldn't be in my room any more, couldn't be in this apartment any more. Suddenly I felt some sort of anxiety grip my heart, and I knew that if I stayed put any longer I was going to have a panic attack. I was going to cry. I grabbed a bag and threw some things in there. Clothes for tomorrow, two books, toothbrush and toothpaste, my cameras. Tucked my phone in my pocket, along with my apartment keys. And the spare key Larx had given me to her place. Then I was out the door heading to her place, locking the door behind me.

It was going on eleven, maybe, but I knew she was home. Her lights were on. Could hear music. (This woman was definitely a night person.) She opened the door right away when I knocked, wrapping her bathrobe tightly around her as her cat-like gaze raked over me. Her lips were pressed into a mischievous grin. "Ooh, fancy seeing you at this hour. I gave you a key for a reason, you know."

"Doesn't hurt to knock."

"What do you want? I just got back from a shoot, and I'm beat."

I adjusted my bag on my shoulder as I paused for a moment, shifting my gaze sideways. Frowned. "Can I… Can I stay here tonight?"

And she was arching that slender brow of hers, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe. The music from her CD player was drifting out into the night air, a low R&B beat that I didn't think she'd be into. And the TV was on, but I wasn't sure what. I kind of focused on that as the blonde regarded me with curious interest. She was silent for so long that all I could do was just stand there with heat rising to my ears and an awkward expression on my face.

Her voice was soft. "What's up with you, Ri-Ri?"

"Don't fucking call me that."

"You're not trying to seduce me, are you? Because I'm telling you now, I gotta be in the right mood before I put out."

"Please, Larxene." Why was I whispering now? Why did it hurt to talk? Why couldn't I look the woman in the face? Why did I feel like crying? "Please… My mom's not home right now and I don't wanna be by myself. Can I stay?"

She was quiet again. Thoughtful. Understanding, on some level. "Just for the night?"

"Just for the night."

And she let out a sigh then, pushed herself up from the doorframe. Turned and started heading into the apartment, waving a hand to signal me inside. "You're sleeping on the couch, Tiger."

She didn't ask questions. There was just the one: Where was my mother? I'd told her that if I had known that, I wouldn't have bothered coming over in the first place. And she just left it at that. Turned off the lights, turned the music down, grabbed a late night snack from her fridge. Gave me a pillow and spare blankets—two, because they were kind of thin and apparently it got near to freezing at night. Handed me the remote and told me I could watch whatever so long as I didn't turn it up too loud; she had an another photo shoot in the morning.

Then she wished me goodnight and disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. And I could have sworn I heard some man's tired voice from inside, but I didn't think too much about it. Curled up on the couch instead and left it on Adult Swim—nothing good came on Saturday nights anyway, so there was no point in looking. Eventually I managed to fall asleep, all thoughts of Mom and Sora and everything far from my mind.

I don't think Larxene would ever understand just how grateful I was for that night.

* * *

><p>"Yo. Riku."<p>

Mm… Warm. Someone hands felt warm on my face. Soft. But the way they were shaking me—not gentle at all. The voice grew louder. Larxene's?

"Wake up!"

And I rolled over onto my back with a groan, opened up my eyes to see the blonde scowling down at me. Blue green eyes seemed to scoff at me when I gave a tired yawn. "What?"

"Some kid's out here asking about you." She was already heading towards the table cluttered with magazines and mail by the kitchen, shuffling some around. Stuffing some needed things into her acid green purse. She had on some flamingo colored cocktail dress today, strapless. Had her lime colored overcoat sagging against her shoulders.

I sat up rubbing the sleep from my eyes as she fixed her coat, as she slipped her purse over her shoulder in a rush. "What?"

"Will you just get up?" Frustration leaked into her tone—yeah, she was in a rush for something—and she pulled out a headband from her bag. Fixed it in her slicked back hair. "Jesus, I'm already late as it is— XIGBAR! HURRY _UP!_ THE SHOOT'S IN THIRTY MINUTES!"

The bedroom door was closed, but I still jumped at how loudly the male voice from inside screamed back. "QUIT FUCKING SCREAMING AT ME!"

This Xigbar person was out of the room shortly after, tugging a shirt over his head and grumbling about Larx's alarm clock not working, or something or other. I had to resist the urge to stare at the glaring scar on his face, at the eye patch that seemed to beg for my attention right away. He shot me a fleeting glance, causing nervousness to rise up in me—no lie, he looked like he was about to skin the first thing he could get his hands on—but I stayed still and tried not to stare too hard at his face.

With the same sense of hurriedness as Larxene, he headed for the door, calling over his shoulder that he'd get the car started. The woman just rolled her eyes, heading for the door as well.

"Jesus Christ." Blowing a loud raspberry, she glanced back at me and pointed. "Lock up when you go, 'kay? Thanks."

Then they were gone. Well then.

I hadn't noticed that I was still in the clothes I had worn yesterday, but I figured I should at least see who this 'kid' was before I did anything about it.

Didn't expect to see Roxas leaning against the wall when I walked out the door.

I froze in the doorway and stared at him curiously, and he just looked back at me with a cool expression on his face, arms crossed. "You look like hell."

"STFU, you boob."

He nodded towards the parking lot, towards Larxene who was now climbing into what I assumed was Xigbar's truck, still fussing loudly about being late for her photo shoot. The blonde eyed them as they drove off. "New friends of yours?"

"Don't worry about it," I snapped. "What're doing here?"

"I was knocking on your door for a while, then she—what's her name? Anyway, that woman walked out and saw me. Said 'If you're looking for Riku, he's in here.'"

"But what do you _want_?"

"We're going shopping."

Had I heard that right? He was joking, right?

But no, he was all seriousness as he pushed himself away from the wall, stood upright. "You need a tux, right? For the dance."

_What the hell is he getting at?_ "I was gonna get around to it."

"We got two weeks left—"

"Two weeks is enough time."

"It's not like you have a car."

"That's what buses are for."

"Ma wanted us to bring you along to David's Bridal for a tux last Saturday—"

"Thanks but no thanks."

"She gave me some money so I could go on my own." For some reason he was still talking calmly, as if I wasn't being snippy with him, as if I wasn't cutting off his every other sentence with a short remark. It was like he didn't realize that I really _didn't_ want to see his face right now—that, or he just didn't care. Like he was purposely trying to piss me off. But then he said something that made me fall silent and regard him with newfound interest:

"And I have some of money of my own to put towards Sora's dress."

I blinked, truly confused. "You…?"

"You can't possibly have enough for one on your own."

"You don't know squat, Blondie." I paused to examine him, still confused. "Why'd you change your mind anyway?"

"Will you just come on?"

I eyed him, trying to find some hint of deception in his eyes, some sort of look that would betray his true intentions. He couldn't possibly have been okay with this, couldn't possibly be comfortable with it. And how had he found out about my plan to buy Sora's dress in the first place? Had the brunette told him at some point?

But no, Roxas wasn't one to play around, especially with something like this. And he looked dead set on getting me out of the apartment, dead set on staying there until I agreed to shopping with him. So I gave a somewhat dismissive wave and turned to head back into the apartment. "Let me shower first."

I'd folded Larx's blankets and put them on the couch, gathered my things together before heading out and locking her door. Then I went back upstairs with Rox following after me, back to my apartment. Left the door open for him to come in—he didn't mention anything about the mess, about how empty the place was—and after I'd finished showering and changing we were back out the door.

We didn't say anything to each other at first, just started heading for the bus stop. And even when we got there, as we waited for the bus to arrive, we were quiet. It wasn't until about five minutes passed that Roxas stated, "Sora moved out."

Say what? Was that a fact that she forgot to mention the other day? "She did?"

"Last week, went right back with Grams. Said he— She said she needed a break from us. Ma took it pretty hard, but she's trying to cope."

It took me a moment to realize that Roxas had just referred to Sora as a 'she,' and I couldn't help but stare at him a little doe eyed. "Did she yell again?"

"No. She doesn't know what to do, really." A shrug here, and he crossed his arms again. "I figured if I'm gonna pick a side, I might as well pick Sora's. He said he wanted to go to the dance in a dress, so I'm gonna help him."

"Her."

A sheepish look crossed his face. "I'm still working on it."

"I can tell." I eyed him thoughtfully, amused by his expression. Was this really the Roxas I had last seen having a mental breakdown weeks ago? "You seem different."

"Do I?"

"Calmer," I explained with slight amazement. "Happier, maybe."

"I wouldn't say happy. Maybe freer."

Huh. "How's your boy toy?"

"Fine. He's just fine."

"You're still seeing him." It was a statement rather than a question, a statement that had the blonde nodding his head and smiling faintly. And I knew that he had just claimed he wasn't necessarily happy, but he looked damned happy at that moment to me. The way he was smiling… Reminded me of older times, almost.

"Yeah."

"You're not pissed at him anymore?"

"What's done is done, Riku. Sora's moved on, Axel's moved on, I'm moving on. That's all it is."

"Well aren't you Mr. Mature?"

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You and Sora."

"Scene's on pause. A freeze frame." I rubbed at the back of my neck, sighing. "Hopefully the tape'll keep rolling soon."

"Don't be too hard on Sora." There was a brief pause as he grew thoughtful, solemn. "Our family… We just don't talk about things. Rarely. So it's kind of ingrained in us. Don't get too upset if he—she—doesn't say something right away, 'cause that's just how it is with us."

I'd already figured as much. Because when Rox and I had been together, when the problems had first started, he'd never wanted to talk about them. Or acknowledge them. Whenever Sora was upset, she never wanted to talk about it, always pretended like she was fine. And I couldn't speak for their mother, but I'm sure on some level she was the same. I knew all of this already, but I hadn't known that they were aware of it themselves.

So long as they acknowledged it, that just meant they'd work on it, right? That's all I could hope for.

So I just nodded, stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets. "I'll remember that."

* * *

><p>Surprisingly enough, there weren't many people out on Sunday. Not as many as I had thought there'd be. When we got to David's Bridal, we went and picked out our tuxes first. Separately, mind you, because we really didn't need to give each other input on what the other should wear… But we did head to the dressing rooms together, got two of them side by side and changed on our own. He'd chosen a simple, traditional black suit with the white dress shirt underneath, a black tie that was tucked into the V that his jacket formed at the chest. Very crisp, very clean, very formal.<p>

He looked good.

He was the last to walk out from his dressing room, folding the cuffs of his sleeves so that they'd be even. (Nitpicky neat freak…) His blue eyes raked through me, taking in the more relaxed outfit I had picked out. I had chosen a dark short sleeved dress shirt with a white button up vest. White slacks. I had a pair of shoes to match at home, so I wouldn't even bother with that.

The blonde arched a brow at me. "No tie?"

"I don't do ties."

"You don't know how to put it on, do you?"

I frowned. "Up yours."

"Just c'mere." He said this while walking over to me anyway, reaching out to examine my vest. Examining all of me carefully, like he was a cadet from the Fashion Police or something. "You're pathetic, you know that?"

"Eh…"

"It looks better unbuttoned," he said quietly, undoing all the buttons on the vest so that the shirt underneath would be free. He glanced back over it, content. "Looks good."

The way he'd said it told me that he meant it. And that, for some reason, made me feel a lot better than I had in days. I gave the blonde a small grin. "Thanks, babe."

I'd always thought Sora held the record for blushing beet red in three seconds flat, but Roxas had her beat by two. I couldn't help but smirk at how flustered he was, at how he averted his gaze and backed off. "Come on, time for the dress."

And then the hard part. We changed back into our clothes, asked the woman monitoring the dressing rooms to look after our suits while we went off to find the dress. Naturally, we couldn't quite agree on what kind to get. Long and elegant—Rox figured, if his sister was going to wear a dress she had better cover up—or short and backless—I wanted to see skin, plain and simple. Something bright and vibrant or something with subdued colors. ("She's not gonna want to walk in there looking like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol, Roxas.") Ruffles or no ruffles, sequined or rhinestone designs. And you know what ain't right? Girls had such a larger choice of clothing than guys. It made shopping for them a hell of a lot harder. But we both wanted to get something Sora would like, something she would look good in, but there was just so much.

We wanted a dress that meant something.

Eventually we settled on a medium length satin gown, strapless but (hopefully) snug enough to stay put without them. A deep blue on top that faded into a fuchsia in the middle, then back down to blue. A ruffled skirt that could be adjusted, according to the saleswoman that helped us pick the silver shoes to match.

The outfit was simple, but it worked. It was the only dress that both Rox and I looked at and didn't have differing opinions about. We both pitched in seventy bucks and some change; and extra twenty-seven each for the shoes and handbag that matched each other, the bright purple shawl.

A couple hours later we were walking out of there with our clothes wrapped in bright yellow plastic bags and folded carefully in our arms. Roxas had the dress lying on top of his suit, was eyeing it questioningly. Then he glanced up at me, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. "You… You think it's okay?"

It was a very simple question. And yet it wasn't. Why was there so much ache and uncertainty there? It was…it was kind of endearing. I let out a huff and slung my suit over my shoulder, gave the boy a light punch on the shoulder with my free arm. "She'll love it. You can give it to her when you get home."

"You're the one who said you'd buy it, though."

"Yeah, but you two are the ones with the rockiest relationship with each other. Just give it to her and say it's a gift from both of us. It'll be awkward if I do it, after everything…"

"It'll be awkward either way," he muttered, but the light sigh he gave indicated that he agreed with me. And I figured, now that we had taken care of what we came here for, that I'd head on my way. So I turned to leave, but Roxas gave a call that stopped me in my tracks. "Hey."

I turned to face him, gave him a curious stare. "What?"

"We can…" Blue eyes fell to the ground for a brief moment before looking back up at me with something akin to an apology. "We can do lunch, or something."

And I stared at him for such a long time that his face started turning red again. He had to force himself to keep eyeballing me, expectant. And for some reason—I really didn't know why—I laughed. Not to mock or belittle, just a genuine laugh that made him smile faintly. "Fine, but you're paying."

"Screw that."

"Your offer, your money."

He laughed, shook his head. Then we were heading down the sidewalk without any real destination, just winging it. And the ease with which we chatted as we walked, the somewhat playful way we went back and forth at each other made me wonder why things hadn't worked out. It made me wonder why now was different, why it was okay when we were no longer together. I didn't mind it, actually; I'd almost go as far as saying we were friends. Or something close to friends.

Then I decided I didn't really care about the how or the why, because it this was the closest thing to comfort I'd had in days.


	16. Free

**Sora; Up In This Town I'm Number One Girl  
><strong>

He was mad. He was mad at me and ready to tell me off, ready to yell. Or worse—break it off. He was mad…and I didn't want him to be, didn't want him to yell or end it. If he did… I wouldn't be able to handle it. Because you didn't meet a guy like Riku often. What was the saying? You don't realize what you have until you lose it. Or you're about to lose it.

And it was all my fault, after all. There was no denying that. I'd been asking for it all week, really. It was my fault…and now I was about to lose the greatest thing I'd ever had. I hadn't realized that until I told Rikku goodbye, until I caught the bus towards the silver haired teen's apartment complex and the weight of the situation finally pressed down on me. It hadn't dawned on me then how much it would tear me apart if Riku walked out of my life, because by now I just so used to him being there… What if he stopped being there? What if he just stopped being there, then what? I hadn't really _thought_ about any of this until I read over his text for the umpteenth time with an exponentially growing sense of dread.

'**Or I'm not waiting for you anymore.'**

Those few words carved at my soul.

He always waited for me. Always. Riku was always waiting for me, waiting on me, _fighting_ for me. Especially when I didn't want to fight for myself. He was so supportive, so loving, so _Riku._ He was always every step of the way with me, and it hurt realizing how much I'd done for him paled in comparison with how much he'd done for me. It _hurt_ finally realizing how much the boy loved me, how much I loved him—and what had I done to show it? Nothing. Other than whine, complain, bottle things up, and now push him away?

So I was truly scared and holding back tears by the time I made it to his neighborhood, as I immediately made my way to the playground where I knew he'd be waiting.

It had to be today. Or he wouldn't wait anymore.

He was sitting on the swing, looking so lonely, so pained. Like a light in his heart had gone out. And when he looked up at me as I stood feet away from him, an apologetic expression crossed my face. My voice was amazingly calm compared to how frantic I felt inside. "Hey."

He rocked back and forth a little, looking painfully neutral now. "Hey yourself."

And we both grew quiet after that, unsure how to go on. Just stared at each other awkwardly. Not really thinking, because what did you think or say in a situation like this? What did I say, how did I set it up? For a moment, just a sudden moment, Riku looked about ready to walk off without another word, but the anger I saw passed and melted into exhaustion when he further studied my face. I found myself shifting uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, biting my bottom lip.

Then I couldn't take the silence any more. "Riku… Look, I'm sorry. I should have at least called you at some point. I should have told you what was going on."

A frown. "What _is_ going on?"

"I'm trying to… No, I _am_ going to fix…" I stopped for a moment, thinking. How did I put it? Eventually I took my free hand and made a sweeping gesture over my body, my arm suddenly feeling very stiff. "Well, all of this. I'm gonna start hormones, get corrective surgery later on."

He gave me a weird look for a moment. "When?"

And it wasn't as simple as "when;" there was a lot that went into the "how" and the "why," though he was familiar with the "why." It was an ongoing process, as my new blonde friend was always putting it. Everyone had to be a part of it. Everyone…

I found myself giving a shrug, because I really didn't know exactly when. But at least I had my list, at least I had my plan. I took small steps towards him, bending down to set my purse on the ground and settling into the swing beside the platinum haired male. Wrapped fingers around the chains, not quite meeting his eye. "It takes a while. At least a year, but I'm gonna work on it. And I found a new friend, someone who knows a lot about the whole process."

"That chick you were with at the mall…"

"Wha…" Wait. Wait, wait… Don't tell me he knew. Did he? How could he have known, unless… And it dawned on me then, fully. Why he had called, why he had told me to meet him out here today. "You saw us?"

"Why'd you think I texted you when I did?"

And it made sense now, why he was so upset. I mean, I knew one way or another he would be upset about the lack of communication. But if he had seen me with Rikku, had seen me enjoying myself without him. Had seen me ignore his call…

Oh my God. I'd ignored his call right in front of him. Had simply looked at the phone and pressed 'end' after a split second, without another thought. I'd… What did he think now? What the hell was _wrong_ with me that I was hurting him like this? Hadn't I asked him not to hurt me the same way? Hadn't I told him that I was tired of the pain, and here I was causing the same kind of pain for him? Even if my relationship with Rikku, the other Rikku, was just friendly. Just sisterhood. Still, the misunderstanding. What did he think?

_I'm a horrible person…_

I had to explain. Found myself explaining, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. I stared at him, refusing to cry. I couldn't cry; I had to talk this out with him. "She's just a friend from my support group, Riku. Besides, I don't like her like that. I'm straight; I don't like girls."

And he didn't say anything. I wanted him to, but he just didn't say anything. Just eyeballed me expectantly. And the word vomit continued. I turned my eyes away, looked to my feet. Scrunched my toes together, clicking my heels against each other.

"I just wanted space. Still do. I just… I want to be able to be _me_ around you, Riku, and not have to worry about other people finding out or judging us. I don't want to keep sneaking around acting one way and then pretending to be something I'm not when I'm with everyone else. Because that's not fair. I should be able to be me all the time and not just with you. So I wanted time to sort that out, you know? I want to get things with my family straight and start hormones, start everything I need to in order to fix this. That's the only way I'll be comfortable."

I wanted him to fully understand how I'd been feeling for the past week, for longer than that. I couldn't love him fully without learning to love myself. And yes, I should have said that earlier, sooner, but only now was I able to find the right words to express it.

And Riku. He always had a way of getting his point across, could always say just what he wanted to in just a few words. "So why the hell didn't you say that from the start?"

It was such a simple yet heavy loaded question. The way he asked it made me realize that Rikku had been right, that I should have just talked to him from the get go. That I'd been a fool.

I felt my confidence waning, felt my voice drop. "I didn't…know how to tell you. You would have thought I was pushing you away."

"But you pushed me away by not saying anything."

_I'm an idiot, Riku, so forgive me._ "I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Ouch. It was the truth, but… Ouch. He really sounded cold right now, really sounded like he didn't give a damn. And it hurt. I knew he was right, but it still hurt and I couldn't look at him, couldn't bring myself to face him. "I'm sorry, Riku… I just…"

I wanted to cry. I know I was fighting not to, but the urge was there. The sting of wetness was there. My fingers started to feel sore, and it took me a moment to realize that I was gripping the chains of the swing rather tightly.

"Look at me."

And I did, still fighting the urge to cry. Swallowing. Scared of that cold expression on Riku's face. I didn't know he could look so cold… It was the kind of look that made you want to crawl in a hole and hide away from the world for a long time. That's how I felt right then. Then he patted his lap, voice soft. Features not really softening, but still his voice was calm. "Come here."

I rose from the swing, slowly, settled myself in his lap. Still scared, not sure of what was going to happen next. Not sure of anything, really, not now. And I found I couldn't keep myself upright, so I just pressed my face into the boy's chest, heaving a sigh. His heart… It was beating almost as fast as mine. Maybe faster. And he said something that had me thinking again on how much I needed to step my game up, how much I needed to _show_ him that I loved him instead of just saying it all the time. "Next time you got something like that on your mind, you _tell me._ Alright? You can't play around with me like that, Sora. I don't look it, but I break pretty fucking easily."

My voice was a desperate whisper. _Baby, please understand… _"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Not a word. We weren't saying a single word. Just sat there, thinking. And some sort of realization hit him, hit us both. It hurt.

"So. What? Are we taking a break?"

"Yeah… Yeah."

"Just until you can get your shit with your family together, right?"

"I don't know, Riku." I had to touch him. Hold him. Because he sounded so fragile right then, so I wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. Buried my nose in the crook of his neck, pressed my lips to his skin for a brief moment. I missed the taste of his skin… "I don't want to, but I can't focus on both… I can't explain it. It's like…like, if I try to focus on my problems right now then that's going to leak into the relationship and ruin it. Like the other day…"

"When you said your mom yelled at you."

"Yeah. I don't want that tension to be there between us, Riku. I wanna fix it first before I focus on us, and only I can do it. Not you. I'm glad you're there for me when I need you, but it has to be me."

"You want to stand up on your own. I get it."

_There's so much you get that other's don't, Riku. So much you see that other's don't, that others refuse to. Why can't everyone be like you?_ I wondered, was it because he was a photographer at heart? Always trying to get that perfect picture of the world as he believed it to be? Was it because he was always reading in between the lines? Was it because he was always _looking_ for something more because, just like me, he thought there was something missing?

Did it even matter why, so long as he kept loving me the way he did? Was I a selfish person to want that much love without any strings attached?

I looked up at him, thinking just how beautiful he was. Riku was a beautiful person. I don't think he realized. "I love you so much. You know that?"

And he replied with a kiss, a passionate kiss that had me slipping my eyes closed and letting my tongue melt with his. A kiss that had me burying fingers in his shock of silky hair and pulling his face closer. Then I was wrapping my arms around his neck, relishing the moment.

He made everything feel so right.

I couldn't help but smile amusedly when we finally pulled back, as we stared into each other's eyes. "You missed me that much?"

A smirk. "Damn straight."

"I missed you too."

"I'm gonna miss this."

"It's not over, you know." I pressed my lips to his again. Tried to reassure him. "It's not the end of the world or anything, Riku."

He still looked upset. Not as much as before, but it was true what he said. He did break easily. He looked like it. His tone sounded so strained. "I can still call you?"

"Whenever. Just don't blow up my phone."

"And we're not seeing other people—"

I didn't even let him finish that sentence. Dug my fingers into his neck instead, scowling. "Hell. No."

"Just so we're clear," he replied. And he was laughing about it, was joking. But it wasn't funny. There was nothing funny about it at all.

I pressed my forehead to his. "I don't want you seeing anyone else. You're mine."

The smile was still there, and he pressed a palm to my cheek. Ran his palm against it. "And you're mine. You can take as long as you need. But you're mine, Sora, so don't you ever forget that."

He definitely didn't have to tell me twice.

* * *

><p><strong>ChilliBean:<strong> Rikku, how did u…

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** Come again?

**ChilliBean:** How'd u tell ur parents u wanted a therapist?

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** Well, I didn't need to tell my parents to find one… I just called up someone after doing some research and made an appointment

…

_x-2SunnySide2-x is typing a response._

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** But I did tell my mom after a couple of months. She was all like "oh, good for you" n stuff.

**ChilliBean:** Oh yeah, u were starting out in college… Should I wait then?

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** No! Ask momma bear now!

**ChilliBean:** now?

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** Not right this second, but why not today? Just tell her you wanna see a gender therapist. Here, I'll email you the one I went to. Her contact info and site n stuff…

…

…

_x-2SunnySide2-x is typing a response._

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** Momma knows you wanna Change, right?

**ChilliBean:** …sort of we haven't really talked talked about it. But yeah, she kind of knows.

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** Well yeah, just tell her and ask her. Look at the site first then you two call Dr. Whitfield together.

**ChilliBean:** KK (: Thanks a bunch, Ri! Ur saving my butt right now.

**x-2SunnySide2-x:** I do try. =D Gotta go, boo. I've got a class in twenty.

**ChilliBean:** K, later.

_x-2SunnySide2-x has signed off._

* * *

><p>Dr. Rozalia Whitfield. Graduated from Glenston University, received her Ph.D. in psychology three years later. She's counseled over a hundred patients, transgendered and otherwise, for the past ten years; and from the comments I'd read online she was regarded as one of the best. Not someone who was gonna try to "fix" you of being transgendered—because it wasn't something you could "fix," wasn't a choice or an illness—but someone who was going to support you, who was going to help you. Because she got it.<p>

So everyone said.

It wasn't that I didn't believe the comments. I'd asked around on Laura's Playground and some of the members that lived in or visited my area for their therapy had nothing but nice things to say about the woman. Surely that counted for something. It was just…I'd never seen or heard of this person before. I guess it was nerves more than anything… But I decided I wanted to go for it. I needed to. The only reason I wanted Dr. Whitfield specifically was because Rikku trusted her. And if the bubbly blonde could trust her enough to refer her to me, then she must have been special.

The only matter was getting Ma to agree to it.

Yeah, I had some money saved up from working at Sonata—but in the long run it wouldn't be enough for long term appointments. Yes, I'd done my research on the woman and had thoroughly examined the site Rikku had given; had looked around at other therapists in the area before deciding that yes, Dr. Whitfield was the one. But, ultimately, my ability to see her lay in my mother's hands.

So I was nervous that Thursday when I got back to Gram's place after school. The old woman was out with a couple of her friends from church, probably planning for tomorrow's Bible Study that she was bent on dragging me to—no thanks. Not this week. So it was just me in the quaint Lysol scented house. I didn't even have Sadie to carry around to calm my nerves, so I resorted to stealing a couple Pixie Sticks from the jar on the kitchen counter (Grams always had candy around the house) and chewing on the neon colored straws after I had eaten the sugar inside.

I was down to my sixth mangled orange straw before I finally managed to pick up my cell, plop myself on the living room couch, and dial Ma's number. Praying she wasn't too busy at work, wasn't in the middle of a class or anything.

She picked up on the third ring. "Sora?"

"Ma." Never before had I felt so nervous about talking with my own mother. Rikku made this kind of thing seem a lot easier than it really was…

But the woman didn't seem to sense the shakiness of my voice, the dryness of my throat. She didn't seem to sense that anything was off; and if she did, she didn't say a word about it. Instead she sounded truly pleased to hear my voice after a week, had a tone in her voice that couldn't be described as anything other than motherly. "Hey baby, what's up?"

I swallowed hard, picked at a loose thread on my jeans. Kicked my feet back and forth against the bottom of the couch. "I need to ask you something."

"About?" And she paused, suddenly realizing where this conversation was going. And my nervousness just grew. To the point where I had to clench my hand into a fist to keep it from shaking. There was a cautious edge to her voice now. "What's… Is it about 'that,' Sora?"

'_That,' she says._ I nodded, even though she couldn't see it. Best to just get it out without beating around the bush. "Yeah… Yes ma'am. I want to see a gender therapist."

She didn't say anything.

"And I want to start hormones. But I need the therapist before that."

She still didn't say anything. I could hear an office phone going off, could hear soft voices in the background. Something about putting grades into the system. Then Ma heaved a light sigh, pressed the phone closer to her mouth—I could tell because her voice sounded just a bit louder.

"Okay."

Okay? She sounded so… Okay? She said okay? I couldn't help but blink. "That easily?"

"It's just… Sora, are you sure? I mean _really sure_? You don't want to wait a little longer?"

"For what? I've been waiting all my life."

"But it's so…" A pause. She was fumbling for the words, grasping for them in her head. I could imagine the way her brows were knit into a V shape right now, could see how her blue eyes narrowed, how her mouth formed a taut pout. Somehow I could even hear the faint sound of her manicured fingers drumming against her desk. And her voice became softer, remorseful. "Not that you can't. I'll listen this time, honey. I mean it. I swear it. It's just…"

Wow. Such a change in tune. Just… Wow. "It's just what?"

"It's like I'm losing my son, baby. It's like I'm losing my little boy and he's being replaced by some complete stranger. I still love you, I always do. But where'd my boy go? What's happening to my son? That's all I think about, Sora, and I hate it because it hurts you. I know that, but I can't help but think it. I can't help but wonder where he went."

"But 'he' never existed." I was pressing my cell closer to my mouth now, too, was slowly hopping off the couch and wandering back into the kitchen. I grabbed a purple Pixie Stick from the glass jar, started twirling it in my fingers and pacing around the lemon colored room. And the words were coming easier now, I found. Because we weren't yelling, we weren't fighting this time. She was listening.

My mother was listening to me.

I went on.

"All these years, Ma, he never existed. Never. I've been waiting all my life for you to realize that."

"I know. I know, I just…" A long pause. Another sigh. Another drum of the fingers. "I've been doing some research. Roxas and I. I know more now, but I still don't completely understand it. It's just… It's different. I just want to know if you're one hundred percent sure."

"Ma, what if you woke up as a man tomorrow?"

She paused, confusion thick in her tone. "What?"

"What if you woke up as a man tomorrow, but everything else about you was exactly the same? You were still the same person, still had the same beliefs and thoughts and personality. The same quirks, the same flaws. And you knew with all your heart and soul that you were actually a woman in the wrong body. All your life you had been a woman, had been seen as a woman, had been treated as a woman. But now, all of a sudden, physically you're a male. And everyone around you denied that you had ever been what you knew you were, had denied that you had ever been a woman to begin with. But you _knew_."

And she didn't say anything. Just listened.

"Wouldn't you do anything and everything possible to try to get back in the right body, Ma? Wouldn't you at least try to make it right so that you could be more comfortable with yourself? Or would you just pretend to be the man everyone said you were, the man you weren't meant to be? Would you keep your mouth shut and play by everyone else's rules because if you tried to claim otherwise they'd call you a freak or mistreat you or hurt you? Or just not understand."

And she still didn't say anything. Was still listening.

She needed to hear these words. She needed to get it. What I felt. All these years.

"Wouldn't you want to make that right, Ma?"

And she didn't say a word, not one. Was taking it all in, I knew. And I think on some level she got it. I think on some deeper level a light was going off in her head; she was realizing that it was more than me just wanting to be a woman. It was more than that; I needed her to see me as one too. I needed everyone to see me and treat me as one too, because…

It hurt waking up, looking in the mirror. Or taking a shower. Or changing my clothes. It hurt seeing that one thing that. Simply. Was. Not. Female. Seeing that one thing and wanting to hide it, to pretend it wasn't there. To chop it off. Because it didn't belong there, it just didn't.

I needed her to understand how much it hurt growing up, how much it hurt watching my female friends grow up with me and develop. How much it hurt knowing that I wouldn't go through the same stages as them, wouldn't get to experience what I should have. I didn't get to wear training bras or get my chest measured or watch my waist thin and curves develop and even out, or get to learn how to track that time of the month. I didn't get the mood swings and cramps and bloating and pimples and tenderness.

I got a cracking voice and Adam's Apple instead. A disgusting lump in my throat. I got a flat chest and morning wood and body hair in disgusting places and muscle and growth spurts that I didn't want. Normal people didn't have their body betray them like that. Normal people didn't go past the point of no return that was known as puberty and think that it was a horrid mistake.

All of it was wrong. Almost like a death sentence—at least, that's how I thought of it years ago, before I "accepted" it and pretended I was fine with everything. Before I decided that there was no way to change it—I hadn't known you could change it back then, not truly. And I think Ma was starting to get that, if only a little.

"Baby…"

"That's how I've always felt." I stopped by the kitchen table, clutching the Pixie Stick tightly in my other hand. Resisting the urge to chew on it. Such somberness to us now… "Mom, that's how I've always felt and thought. And it hurts. All the time, it always hurts. I want to fix it."

"Okay." For a moment she sounded like she wanted to say something else, but she merely repeated herself. Firmly. "Okay."

"Thank you." I hadn't realized there was such tightness in my chest until it died away, until I released a grateful breath. Until a wide grin broke across my face and I was twirling the Pixie Stick in my fingers. "Ma, thank you so much—"

"But you have to do something for me first."

My smile faltered a bit. "What?"

"You have to start teaching me. Start teaching me everything, Sora. Help me understand."

And there was so much in those words, so much more she wasn't saying but was at the same time. So much she was trying to say without using words, so much feeling. Just so much.

I smiled even wider than before, embracing the fluttery feeling in my stomach.

"That's all I've ever wanted."

* * *

><p>Monday, April 9th, was the day the planets aligned and the universe decided to cut me a break. It was the day that the whole world came to a grinding halt and decided, for just a few minutes, that it was Sora Day and such a glorious day called for an infinitely glorious moment. It was the day Roxas made me the happiest person alive, and I don't think I'd ever screamed so loudly when he walked into my room that afternoon.<p>

I didn't worry about how he had snuck past Grams with it, or if the woman had seen and just didn't say anything. I didn't worry about why he had suddenly decided to pay me a visit at Grams place—the why became apparent the moment he walked through the door. And at first I had just sat on my bed and stared, halfway through my homework. Wide eyed. Then he gave a sly smirk, held it up. Didn't even say anything, just looked at me with this almost smug look on his face.

And I just lost it.

He was holding a dress. A gorgeous dress, something that would probably come down to my knees. Strapless. A dark blue and vibrant purple in the very middle of the satin fabric, a ruffled skirt. A matching sash wrapped around the top of the hanger, all of it wrapped in a clear plastic bag. Simple, very simple, but it looked gorgeous and amazing and I knew it was for me. Knew where it came from. And I just jumped up from my bed, ignoring the papers and text book falling to the carpet, and rushed over.

"OhmyGod!"

"You like it? Riku and I got it yesterday."

"OHMYGOD!"

And before I knew it I was crying tears of joy, was pulling the blonde into a tight hug, laughing at the same time. And the dress was kind of smushed in between us and I probably should have waited until he could set it down, but I didn't care because I was so damn happy, so damn happy, and I _needed-to-call-Riku-and-proclaim-my-undying-love-for-him__, ohmyGOD!_

I just cried and hugged Roxas tighter, pressed a loving kiss to his cheek. And he laughed in spite of the awkwardness I knew he felt. "Sora, chillax! You're gonna wrinkle it."

"I f-freakin' LOVE y-you!"

"Don't love me too much, or I'll choke to death."

Did he not realize I could die happy right then? Did he not realize that? And I couldn't think straight at all, just kept crying and stammering to the point where Ma and Grams had to come into the room to see what all the noise was about. They could have sworn I was killing some poor rodent. And they had to pry me off of Roxas, had held up the dress and examined it with identical stares of awe. Had asked the same questions at the same time—

"Where'd you get this? Who's this for?"

And without blinking, without a second thought Roxas claimed it was for me. For Ring Dance. For my date with Riku, my boyfriend. And I still couldn't say anything, just kept crying when Ma and Grams stared at the two of us dumbstruck. And I had to hold a hand to my mouth to calm myself down, and I felt Rox wrap his fingers around my free hand when Grams started saying something. I didn't quite hear, but she wasn't pleased. Was fussing, was yelling, but I didn't hear quite what. And Ma set the dress on the bed, was trying to get Grams out of the room, was trying to calm her down as she screamed at the both of us, at Rox and me. As she screamed that no grandson of hers was going as a stinking tranny to any dance, not with any boy. Not with a heathen boy.

But I didn't care because I was too damn happy and still crying, and I hugged Roxas again. He didn't hesitate in hugging me back.

* * *

><p>Grams wasn't happy about it. She wasn't happy about any of it, even though I knew Ma had talked to her at length about…well, everything. About how she and Roxas were going to support me, at last, and that Grams should hop onboard. And the elderly woman wasn't feeling it, but she didn't say anything about it to me. She never did, even if it bothered her. And she still treated me the same, but I could tell she wasn't happy about it. That just added to my anxiousness on Tuesday.<p>

I had packed an overnight bag for home—not Grams', but my real one. Had packed four sets of clothes, two boyish outfits and two dresses from my trunk. The boots, some sneakers. My wig and makeup. Two sets of underwear, opposites. Some pajamas. I was going to stay with Rox and Ma for the night after my meeting.

My first gender therapy session.

Ma had called in for it, had talked with Dr. Whitfield for a number of hours for the past three days. After I had shown her the information, had gone over it with her. After she had done her own research and decided that she was okay with going to Dr. Whitfield. And she said the woman sounded nice enough, seemed to know what she was talking about whenever Ma threw questions at her. How experienced was she with GID patients? How does she usually go about treating them? How long did she usually wait to write The Letter? How familiar was she with such and such and this and that.

I was still nervous as hell.

My appointment was after school, around five. Ma had taken off early just to drive me there, but I had freaked out at home while I waited for the woman to come get me. What did I wear? Did I go in guy mode or girl mode? If I went in girl mode, would she say anything? Would she have a problem with it? What kind of questions was she going to ask me? What kind of questions did I ask her? I had a few, and I'm sure Ma had asked them herself, but still.

And as nervous and scared as I was, I was excited. Mentally jumping for joy. I was doing this! I was actually doing this and getting help, taking the first step! And if she was as good as they said she was, as understandable as they said she was, how soon would I get my Letter? How soon could I start my hormones? How soon could I get out of this _body_ and into the one I needed to be in?

The drive to her office was torture.

I think Ma could see the mix of excitement and anxiousness on my face, because she smiled at me when she pulled into the parking lot and shook her head. "You're bouncing in your seat."

"I feel like I'm gonna die from all this emotion."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, I think."

"Just relax." And she reached out to touch my cheek, some strange expression on her face, some look I couldn't quite read. A mix of pride and pain, I think…but a new kind of understanding was there. Her voice was soft as she ran her fingers against my cheek. "You look pretty."

And I think my heart stopped at that moment, because that was the first time I'd ever heard anyone in my family call me pretty.

I was wearing one of my dresses, my slate colored T-shirt dress with the dark blue lily print on the side. Some navy leggings that matched, and the boots. I'd straightened and curled my hair, decided to wear it short. Ma had even helped me with my makeup today, had watched in awe as I picked out the right colors with ease. Only now had she mentioned anything about my transformation.

I clutched my purse tightly, flushing. Smiling sheepishly, fighting back the urge to cry. Whispered. "Thank you."

She gave a tired smile back. "Let's get you in there."

Dr. Whitfield was on the third floor of the suite styled building, and when we left the elevator there was a waiting area with a secretary at a rounded counter. Four other people waiting in the chairs, waiting to have their name called. A middle aged man—no, transwoman? Another mother and her boyish looking daughter, a really skinny woman who kept fidgeting and biting her nails. We checked in then sat down. And my nerves took over again. For twenty minutes.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the secretary called my name, when she said Dr. Whitfield would see me now. Ma was quick to squeeze my knee before whispering, "It'll be fine." Then I was up and out of the seat, leaving the woman to wait for me, wait until my meeting was over, and I was following the secretary's pointing finger into the office.

It was a small office, nothing extravagant. Cozy. There were two small couches and one sofa, one of those sofas you could lie back on. Cream colored and forming a small circle in the middle of the burgundy room. There was a bookcase that took up the entire left wall, and a door beside it that led to a restroom I think. A window overlooking the parking lot. A desk across from the bookcases, not really cluttered but not exactly tidy. A computer. Stacks of papers, folders. Reminded me of Ma's office at home.

There was a woman sitting behind that desk, cropped dark brown hair, reading glasses on her slightly wrinkled face. Pretty amber eyes that fell on me the moment I walked into the room. She beamed and rose from her seat, approached me. "Hello, Sora."

I gave a polite smile in return. "Hi."

It was awkward… Her eyes never left my face, her smile was too wide, too white. She was watching me too carefully, it felt. She held out a hand for me to shake, which I did. Breifly. Then she gestured to one of the chairs. "Take a seat."

I did. I set my purse on the ground and sat back with my legs crossed, with my hands folded neatly in my lap. Quiet, unsure what to do next.

"So." Dr. Whitfield said after a moment. Eyed me. "Tell me about you."

"Um… I don't know where to start."

"Wherever you want."

"Mm…"

She didn't understand; I _really_ didn't know where to start. Didn't even know what to say. For some reason the excitement died and nothing but nervousness took over. I didn't know… Could she see it? Could she see I was dressed up, or did she think I was a girl? Was she going to say something about my outfit? She'd talked to my mom, so surely she knew a little bit about me already… What did I say?

"Well, how about I tell you about me first?" Dr. Whitfield asked after a long moment's silence. She was very easy going, very cool about the whole thing. She took a seat on top of her desk, crossing her legs. "I've been counseling for ten years now and loving every moment of it. I enjoy Ethiopian food. I've traveled throughout Europe, mostly Greece. Beautiful place, really. I have albums and albums I could show you. Have you ever been to Greece? No? My husband's actually from Athens. We've been happily married for twelve years, with two children."

And she paused in her casual chatter, picked up a framed picture from her desk to hand it to me. I took it, examined the black and white photo of two seven year olds—or were they eight? Either way, they looked so precious. Two brunettes with their mother's eyes, their mother's faces and freckles, in matching bathing suits and giving gapped toothed smiles to the camera. Hugging each other. A boy and a girl.

My nervousness melted away when I saw that picture, and I was overwhelmed by the love I could feel just from looking at it. "They're adorable!"

"Aren't they? That one's Staci and her brother Codi. Twins."

I handed back the picture after examining it some more, still grinning at how goofy the children had looked. "I'm a twin."

"Are you?" She took it back, set it back beside her. Got up and settled back in her chair, folding her hands together.

"Yeah. Kind of like your kids. I've always wanted kids…"

"There's no reason you can't have any."

"But to carry them, you know." I thought back on that night with Riku. That amazing night… I missed him. I needed to call him later, again. Definitely. I thought back on his words that night, how I could always adopt a child of my own. But… "Adoption, I know, but… It's not the same."

I fell silent on that solemn note, but Dr. Whitfield didn't let the conversation die. The brunette leaned forward in her seat, twiddled her fingers and said, "Tell me, Sora. When did you first feel you were a girl?"

"When I was six." It was such an immediate answer, yet she didn't seem fazed. Seemed to expect it, almost, and the way she was watching me just made my words come out all the more easier. "We used to stay with our aunt and uncle a lot when we were younger, just to visit family. There was one time Ma and Dad went on a second honeymoon and our Aunt Renee watched us. She took us shopping with our cousin Yuna all the time."

"Mm."

"And she'd buy Yuna these really pretty dresses for church, you know? I'd kept telling our aunt that I wanted one like Yuna had, because all I had were stupid suits, but she'd fuss at me and say boys didn't wear dresses. And I would say I know, but I wasn't a boy so it was okay for me to have one." I thought for a moment, wrinkled my nose in thought. Twiddled my fingers and eyed them briefly. "Not quite like that, but you get the point. She thought it was weird, but she just pretended that I was right. And when we got home I would steal Yuna's clothes and put them on."

"Did your aunt ever tell your parents?"

"Yeah… Yeah, of course she told them, when they came back. But they figured it was a phase."

"Most parents do. It's quite normal for some young boys to show interest in activities usually associated with the opposite sex. Painting toenails or wearing 'girl clothes,' playing with dolls. The same with young girls, too; they get labeled as tom boys. The general assumption is that they'll grow out of it."

"But I didn't. There was nothing to grow out of. I've always been a girl, plain and simple," I stated, almost defiantly.

She gave a nod. "And here you are."

"Yeah."

There was a long pause. She examined me carefully a moment, smiling. Something knowing. And it didn't make me feel uncomfortable like before; it was like there was some deeper understanding going on in her head. She pressed a hand to her cheek. "Tell me about you now, Sora. How do you feel now?"

How did I feel now? How did I feel… So much had happened, so much was changing. There were things I was sad about, regretful about. My break with Riku, even though it was needed… My lack of communication with my family, even though it was getting a bit better. My situation with my friends, though I planned on changing that soon…

But I knew how I felt and there was only word that summed it all up, so I said it with confidence.

"Free."

* * *

><p>Here's the thing about Cloud Strife.<p>

January 11th was the day that we had met, was the day that Zack had walked over to me and slipped me his blonde friend's number. And they both were nice guys, both had their heads on straight. Zack was always looking out for his younger friend, even though he had his college studies to focus on, even though his schedule made it so he didn't get to see Cloud as often as he liked to. They were best buds, much like Roxas and Axel. And Cloud was cute. Was handsome, really, and nice.

Cloud's a very nice guy.

He's polite and a perfect gentleman. He says yes ma'am and no sir. He holds the door open for me the few times I hang out with him, and he calls me in moderation. He'll call me and leave a voice mail when he gets out of school—because I think his school let him out a few minutes earlier than mine, and he was usually free. When we were together he'd talk about random things, like where he wanted to go in life. How he wanted to play soccer professionally or travel the world. How he had a set plan for his life. Or he'd talk about simpler things. Like a party Zack had dragged him to a couple nights before, or how senior year wasn't as stressful for him as he thought it would be. But he was still ready to graduate.

He asked me how my day went, or what I was up to. If I was free, if I wanted to go somewhere with him after school. And I usually told him no, because somehow hanging out with a male friend Riku knew nothing about—hanging out with a male friend who still had no idea that I was physically male myself… It seemed odd to me. And he was usually a good sport about it. He'd apologize or say maybe next time. And he'd still call, still chat, still joke. And I with him. Not often, but enough for me to consider him a friend.

But I think he liked me.

That was a problem.

Now, he'd never done anything outright to prove me right, nothing blatant. He hadn't said anything. But the hints were there, subtle or otherwise. As dense as I could be at times, I was quick to pick up on it. And it scared me because:

A) Riku didn't know Cloud existed.

B) Cloud didn't know Riku existed.

And C) Cloud only saw me when I cross dressed; he didn't know about "boy" Sora.

What's a girl to do?

So I had a predicament Saturday. April 14th, roughly three months since I'd met Cloud. It was after my second group meeting—I still hadn't gone _en femme_ yet, but I was getting there—when I was still hanging out with Rikku a little later that afternoon and sending a text to Grams saying I'd be a little late getting home. Cloud called me. He never texted. Said it felt too impersonal to him, so he always called. And Rikku was with me by the bus stop, waddling in circles, green eyes curious when I grimaced at my phone.

I answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hey…"

He didn't beat around the bush. "If you're free tonight, I'd like you to come skating with us."

Us, he said. "You and Zack?"

"And Tifa."

_Who is it? _Rikku mouthed, hopping in front of me. I waved at her with a frown, turning away. Causing the young woman to blow a raspberry in my ear. "Um… I don't know."

"It's just a roller skating rink. I could pick you up if you'd like?" Why did he sound so hopeful? Why'd it have to be like this? Crap…

_Your boyfriend?_ Rikku mouthed again, popping back in front of my face. And I shoved my hand on her nose, pushing her away as she gripped my wrist and pretended to choke to death. (This girl had problems…) "I can't. Not tonight. I have a…a thing."

A slight pause. A sigh. "You always have a thing. Whenever I want to see you, just for a little bit, something comes up."

"I'm not obligated to see you all the time. It's not like you're my boyfriend or anything, Cloud."

"…Why can't I be?"

Oh man.

Rikku stopped pretending to die long enough to shoot me a more serious look, her playfulness dying down. Now there was a genuine frown on her face, genuine concern. And she wasn't mouthing her questions now. "Who's Cloud?"

"Shh."

"What?"

"Not you, Cloud. Look—" I had to think for a moment, think how to phrase my words without sounding too rude. Because Cloud was a nice person, even if he was making things complicated right now. "You're great and all, but I have a boyfriend already."

"That doesn't bother me."

Oh man…

"It bothers me…"

"Then maybe you should dump your boyfriend."

"Now you're being rude."

"I like you, Sora."

"Who's Cloud?" Rikku asked louder, startling a few people approaching the bus stop. She was gripping my free arm tightly now, leaning into me, and I had to fight to keep her out of my face. "I thought Riku was your BF, yo."

"I have to go now," I stammered, my face turning red.

"Sora—"

"Please don't call me anymore." And I hung up, still flustered, heavily embarrassed.

Rikku wouldn't let it go. "Are you two timing your boyfriend?"

"No! And will you stop being so loud, there are other people."

"Why're you talkin' to this _Cloud_ anyway, then?"

"I can't have male friends?"

"Not if they're trying to get in your pants, no."

The bus showed up then, parked by the curb. A small stream of people filed off before the six of us that had been waiting climbed on board and paid our fare. Rikku trailed after me to the back of the bus, settling herself beside me with the same frown on her face, arms crossed. And I just rolled my eyes, just breathed an annoyed sigh. "Cloud's not like that."

"You don't know that," she mumbled, jewel toned eyes narrowed. "He could be some pervert fruit cake for all you know."

"Fruit cake?"

"Ya heard me."

In spite of myself, of the situation, I gave a small laugh in response. Shook my head. "You're really weird, Ri, you know that?"

"I mean it, Sora. Watch out for him."

She didn't have to tell me that. I already knew… It was better Cloud and I didn't talk anyway, better that I continued to see him less and less. That had been my plan all along, to eventually just let us drift apart until he forgot about me. Because as friendly as we were, I didn't feel compelled to tell him I was transgendered. I didn't know him like that. And I honestly didn't know how he'd react. Would he be okay with it? Would he be able to handle that fact? Who knew? So I had to stay away from him, simple as that. Had to erase him from my life, especially now that Riku and I were taking a break.

But that was easier said than done. And I hadn't anticipated the blonde changing the grand scheme of things so drastically.

But that's a little later.


	17. No Air

**Riku; My Heart Won't Move, It's Incomplete**

I had a weird dream last night. My mom was in it, and Larxene. And Sora. But they weren't three separate people; rather, they were one person. One woman. A mix of women.

One moment I would be running fingers through flaxen hair, slick and short. And it would steadily morph into silver as my fingers trailed down, would shimmer into a beautiful silver. Then light brown. And the eyes. They were a mix of the sea and the sky and the greenish tint of the evening air during the right time of day, that strange tint of green at just the right moment in time. And the smile was innocent and playful and loving and seductive and dangerous all at once. And she was naked. Completely bare.

And every curve was so perfect yet alienating at the same time. I wanted to look away—because part of it reminded me of Mom, of Larxene—but I couldn't keep myself from touching it. Everything. Ran fingers through hair and along cheeks and gripped and licked at pink buds on the chest. Because most of it was Sora. Eventually it all turned into Sora and her curves and her dips. Her hips and her lips and her perky breasts, although small. It was all her, her moans and her movements…

Then I woke up with a hard dick and a lump in the back of my throat.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>I got up Monday morning in a particular mood. The moment my eyes fluttered open I just stared around my room, took in the whiteness of the walls. The obnoxious buzz of the fridge. The coolness of the air. The faint scent of leftover pizza I'd ordered the night before—cold pizza for breakfast; whoever thought of that was a genius. The slightly rough feel of my blanket against my bare skin. The sound of birds flitting around outside, chirping, of someone's car pulling out of the parking lot as they headed for work.<p>

The absence of my mother's voice from the kitchen.

And here's the thing—it really wasn't bothering me anymore. Roughly a week, and every day of that week spent worrying where she was, wondering if she was okay. Wondering if she was coming back, if she was at least going to call me. Wondering how the hell I was going to pay the rent, because that envelope I'd found in the mail a couple days ago was a flashing reminder. Yet today was different. As strange as it sounded, I was calm. No, not quite calm… Apathetic, if anything. To everything. No motivation to do anything, not one thing. Except for one…

So I decided to skip school for the day and spent my time taking pictures.

No people today. I didn't want to look at people, didn't want to take snapshots of strangers' faces or the contours of their bodies, didn't want to think about what the story of their life might be or how I could make sense of it. Not today. I framed pictures of lone items, objects, plants, insects, animals instead. Wondering how their likeness could constitute as art in my eyes, when I was struggling with seeing beauty in much of anything right now. Just walked around the neighborhood, the streets, around town. Wandered all day long snapping photos.

Snap one. I crouched down on the sidewalk outside the complex. Crouched low, held the lens out to capture the long stretch of cracked granite. I walked a bit further to get a quick snap of the lone maple leaf toppled over along the path. A greenish shade of yellow, browned around one edge. Its stem seemed to point right back at me, as if saying hello.

Snap nineteen. A little out in town. An old man's cane. A sleek type of wood, tinted red. Curved like a candy cane with some sort of intricate design carved near the bottom. Looked like words, Hebrew. The old man himself was sitting on a bench the cane was propped up on, checking his cell phone. (Or struggling to figure out how, it seemed.) He was a tiny thing, amber skin and a mess of badly combed hair. Glasses too small for his face clinging to his nose, mouth slightly open as he read something to himself. I left him out of the picture.

Snap twenty-six. A stop sign. Someone had taken white spray paint and neatly printed the words "the hate" underneath "stop." I couldn't help but grin at how clever the tree-hugging perpetrator thought he was.

Snap twenty-nine. The worn down, handmade open-closed sign hanging on the doorknob inside Sonata. I didn't go inside, even though it didn't look very busy. Wasn't sure if Aerith saw me standing out front or not, but it didn't matter. Maybe another time.

Snap thirty-five. I went to a shopping district, inside a clothing store. The Children's Place. Vibrant reds and greens and blues, oranges, yellows—a whole canvas of clothing popping out at you the moment you walked in. Mannequins, posters of smiling kids. A new establishment, yet there were a number of people poking around inside. Mothers with their children.

A little girl with curly ginger pigtails and a gap between her front teeth kept peering over at me when I took pictures of some of the fresh racks of clothing, of the display cases. Curious grey eyes, a fish-eyed stare. I ended up stopping long enough to flash a small smile, to tap two fingers to my forehead and give a short salute. In response, she stuck her tongue out at me before hiding behind one of the mannequins, hoping it was just tall enough—not really—to keep her from view. Just this one time, just for the moment, I broke my no-people rule and snapped a picture of the girl's smiling eyes staring at me from around the plastic model. Cute.

I found with each picture, each trip to a different location I normally wouldn't go to, I was enjoying myself more and more. Especially after that short-lived moment with Little Ginger Curls. Almost like a wakeup call, a message. _Lighten up, pretty boy._ I think, for those few moments, the storm inside of me calmed. Everything was fine. Nothing else mattered. I was content. Not quite happy, but not quite upset. I think a bit of the spark came back.

I thought about how I should get a journal. One of those leather bound ones without the ruled paper. Should get my photos developed or print them out, paste them inside the pages. Decorate it and all of that jazz. (Maybe I could get Naminé to help me with it. She was good with the artsy fartsy stuff.) It would be a fun project, I decided, so on the way home I ended up buying a large sketchbook—not quite a journal, but still like a book—with a sleek ink colored leather on the cover.

Then, after I'd gotten home and eaten and watched some TV and settled myself on my bed with that sketchbook, I got a text from Roxas with two simple words that confused me.

'**Brace yourself.'**

Literally three seconds after that my phone started ringing and I'd barely looked to see who was calling before answering it. I could hear laughing in the background, Rox's voice, but it was mostly Sora. And she was squealing or yelling into the phone, _something_, but for the love of God almighty she wasn't speaking English. She wasn't really speaking, she was just making incoherent noise into the phone, but I could pick out a few words here and there. Something about undying love, blue and purple, and it fits perfectly and WHERE did I get it, WHERE?

And I found myself bursting out into laughs myself because there was only one reason why she was so damn excited right now. "I take it you liked the dress?"

"ILOVEYOU!"

"Of course you do."

"I _mean_ it, Riku, I freakin' love you both!"

And as pissy as I'd been, as foul as my week had been up to this point, as determined as I'd been at one point to stay apathetic to everything today and every day afterward, there was no way I could keep it up now. Not when I could hear so much love in her voice, hear so much raw excitement—this dance couldn't come soon enough. When was it, the twenty-third? Two weeks. Two weeks was a long time.

I let out an amused chuckle, sweeping my bangs from my face and lying back on my bed, rolling onto my side. "We figured you'd like it."

"Thank you."

"Just don't go messing it up or anything before the dance, 'cause we're not getting another one."

"Riku, thank you."

"You're welcome," I whispered, smiling.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you crying?"

"Yes."

At least she was honest, no? And I wanted a picture. I wanted to see what the dress looked like on her—though it was probably best if I waited until Ring Dance—and I wanted to get a picture of that face smiling through tears. I could imagine it now, the way those sapphire eyes were lit up or the way they were squinted up. Or the slight dimples on her cheeks when she was grinning that widely.

I wanted to go over right now and see her. Couldn't, but I wanted to. I wonder… Did she feel the same? We were taking a break, but surely we could bend the rules just a bit, just this once, right? Just so I could get one look in, one picture, one press of the lips to hers, one touch…

Did this girl realize what she did to me? I really don't think she did.

The brunette cried some more into the phone, eventually calmed down enough for me to understand half of what she was spewing out. And I laughed and joked with her the entire time, kept her on the phone for hours because the sound of her voice was like magic, the love in her voice was making my day right then. And I got to thinking how things would turn out okay, as I spoke with Sora. Because speaking to Sora had a way of doing that to you, of making you think the world was okay. I truly believed that.

Things would be fine.

* * *

><p>The next day, after school—lucky me, I didn't skip this time—I decided to go to the Dragon Lady's lair instead of cooping myself up at home. Figured, if anything, she'd provide me with some sort of entertainment for the night. And I didn't want to sleep in my place alone again…but she wouldn't get to hear that out loud a second time. Ever.<p>

So I let myself into her apartment only to be greeted by silence and chilly air. No one home. Figured I should stay anyway, at least bum an early dinner off of the blonde. Set my stuff on the ground and settled onto the couch after grabbing a book from the small dining table by the front door. Some random novel called Watership Down that I knew couldn't be Larxene's—she wasn't the reading type; was probably Marluxia's… And I just started reading it to pass the time, puzzled by the fact that anyone in their right mind would want to write a novel about rabbits.

I hadn't heard the door open a little later and hadn't seen someone come in until I glanced over the edge of the couch and took in the familiar face. Paine. Hadn't seen her since New Year's—which was a while ago—but she didn't look much different. Still the same leather-clad bundle of intimidation I had met that night. Nothing in her hands or on her shoulders or anything. She looked like she was ready to drop by then head back out in a matter of minutes.

She paused in the doorway when she spotted me on the couch, gave a curious frown. "Why're you here? You got school, don't you?"

"I didn't go today," I lied with amazing ease. Not that it bothered me.

Paine didn't seem that convinced, but she merely replied, "Mm."

I ended up getting up from the couch, setting the book down on the coffee table. Walked around it only to lean against the back of the seat, to cross my arms as Paine made her way to the kitchen for a bottle of water. "Larxene's not around, then?"

"You're asking me? I needed to talk to that head sore." And she paused for a moment, thoughtful. "I wouldn't get too involved with her if I were you, kid."

I frowned at that, keeping the thought that she wasn't me and she should just mind her own business to myself. "Says the best friend And I'm not a kid."

"Grownups don't have to say they're not kids," she shot back matter-of-factly.

Touché.

The woman made her way to the small dining table, shuffled through some of the mess on it. Kept taking sips of her water. (God, she was pale. Did she go out in the sun at all?) And she saw something that caught her eye, set her bottle down on the table to pick up a leather bound booklet. A photo album, it looked. And from where I was I could spot the likeness of Larxene in several poses, several outfits that I remembered too well because I'd taken pictures of her in them. Her portfolio pictures.

Paine made a sound in the back of her throat that I assumed was good. "Larxene told me about you, but… You took these?"

"Yeah."

"They're nice."

"Thanks."

"You take pictures?"

"Pretty sure we just established that."

"Don't get smart," she snapped, though it was all in good fun the way I'd poked fun at her. And I could tell she knew that, because there was the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. She blinked at me questioningly. "As a hobby, I mean. You take pictures as a hobby? Often?"

"…Yeah."

"You should work at my company."

Oh? "Company?"

"Fenway Corporate Photography. We deal mostly with models and the wanna-bes. Birthdays, weddings, parties. And modeling agencies usually contact us to coordinate their shoots."

So that's why she wanted to talk to the Dragon. Probably managed most of her shoots, too. "Agencies like Larxene's?"

"Bingo. I don't mean any kind of serious job—you're not quite there yet. But it'd be a good experience for you if you're looking to do this kind of work professionally. A good look into how companies like these work. You've got potential."

"I wouldn't be taking your pictures, though?"

"No. I don't model, just coordinate. Design outfits. Occasionally wear them if we can't find anyone else that's worthy. But the company belongs to my mother and I help her run it. I could get you an internship. Probably some desk work, filling out papers, running errands, sitting in on shoots."

As interesting as it all sounded… Well, what was the reason? Why did she want to help me? It wasn't like we were close, and this was the second time I'd met her. But maybe it was just as she said, as she thought; maybe she saw some sort of potential and didn't want to let it go?

The woman arched a brow at me, expectant. "What says you?"

"You says yes," I said with a playful grin, unwilling to admit to the excitement and pride I was feeling right then.

"Good. I'll give you my card sometime later, when I have one on me. Since you're in school, you come at later hours. But. _**Don't.**_ Be late." She bit the last four words out, expression growing even more stoic than before—didn't think it was possible; and really, I had to be careful around this woman because as gorgeous as she looked she could probably bite my head off. She added, "I don't play around." I guess for extra measure.

I couldn't help but laugh. "I had a feeling."

"Yo!" A familiar sing-song voice trailed into the living room then, obnoxiously pleased with something. And a little tipsy—maybe more than a little. Before long Larxene was strutting in with her black coat hanging over her shoulder (it wasn't really that cold out…) and her purse on the other. A mint green cocktail dress, sequined, and she looked really pretty but… Not all there. Not quite.

She had noticed me first when she'd walked in, by the couch, had flashed her winning smile. But it turned into a wry one when she caught a glimpse of Paine, when she saw how the silver haired woman had her arms crossed and had her ass-whooping face on display. "Oh boy."

Paine started stalking towards the blonde. "Where the hell were you?"

"Here we go."

"You tell me you want to meet Avi. I get you Avi. I _track down _Avi. I make an appointment with Avi, tell him to meet us to talk, to cut a deal. Do you know how fucking _hard_ it is to get an appointment with Avi? The man's always busy, Larxene—"

"I had a thing," the woman said with a sigh, tossing her things on the couch. Curling an arm around my shoulder as she approached, pressing a teasing kiss to my cheek and causing me to jerk my head free in response. Paine was throwing her arms up, though, was steadily cranking her voice up in volume. And I had no idea the woman could get so damn angry, the way she was yelling.

"You DON'T stand up Avi, Larxene. You go to his meetings, you talk to him, you get to know him, he gets to know you, he takes your pictures. You cancel EVERYTHING instead of missing that meeting. He's like the fucking God—no, the Oprah of this industry. Would you stand up Oprah, Larxene, would you? You don't, you just don't—"

"Just make another meeting, okay?"

"WERE YOU _LISTENING!_ And ANOTHER thing, your attitude needs adjusting."

"Oho, _my_ attitude?" She had both arms wrapped around me now, was steadily pulling me away from her fuming friend. At this point, I didn't mind— Paine looked like she would slaughter us both where we stood. With just her bare hands.

"Yes, Queen Bee. Your. Fucking. Attitude."

"I'm not the one with the pole shoved up my ass," Larxene joked. And she must have had some sort of drug, some sort of good liquor or something because no sane person would be giggling the way she was when two piercing red eyes were practically stabbing into them. Not when someone like Paine was chewing you out the way she was with Larxene. But she was pulling me closer and closer to her bedroom, away from Paine who was still following us.

"I'll shove something up your ass, alright— I'm still talking to you!" And before Paine could do anything, before I realized what was going on, Larxene yanked me into her room and slammed the door closed. Locked it. Laughed when fists were pounding on it from the other side. "Open the damn door!"

"La, la…" The sing-song voice again, close to a whisper. She had me pinned to the now closed door, had her face pressed obnoxiously close to my chest. One hand on my shoulder, the other reaching up to my cheek. She was kind of crouched down, sagged to her knees. Head against my waist now. The woman looked up with a sly smile. "Ain't she a thrill?"

I tried not to let that gaze burn too hotly into my skin. Slipped her hands away from my body so she wasn't hanging on me, but she let them fall to my waist instead. I pushed them away again, scowling. "Are you high or something?"

"High off _life_, babe."

"And you felt the need to hold me hostage, why?"

"You know I love you."

"Means nothing coming from someone parading around like a crack whore."

"Oh, oh, that isn't very nice." And there was a purr-like quality to her voice now, something I didn't like. This whole demeanor she took on around me, this whole touchiness and clinginess—I couldn't stand it. And Paine was still banging on the door, going off about Avi this and Avi that and Larxene, you sorry bitch, you better make it up to him. But Larxene was off in her own world, taking on this strange look in her eye, and I knew part of it was because of the alcohol—I could smell it on her breath, even if it was light; it was there. Then her lips took a broader curve, her eyes narrowed, and she was running her fingers along my hips. Bringing them closer to my zipper.

Somehow my voice sounded strained, sounded quieter than I would have liked. I reached out both hands and pressed them to her head, roughly pushed it back. "What are you—"

"Shh…" And she shook her head free, swatted at my hands with one of hers. Started rubbing my crotch with the other, rubbing it hard and—oh God, no… But she was just rubbing. Was holding one of my hands away with one of her own, and she was rubbing. A deep chill ran through my body when she said, "Shush, just stay like this for a bit."

"S…stop." Oh my God.

"You plan on staying again tonight?" She traced her finger along my zipper. I gripped her other hand tightly, tried to cut the circulation off. Not enough, she was still…

"Dunno," I whispered, legs starting to shake. Sliding a little against the door, lower, lower. "Larx…en… Please stop."

"You can use the bed this time. Marly's staying at a friend's house tonight." _Zip_. Exposed. With her teeth, she had undone the zipper. And she was sliding my pants down… Why wasn't I moving? Why wasn't I stopping her? That damned grin never left her face. Lust in her eyes, now. Damn, damn…

"A lady friend," I stated, and an angry spark entered her gaze for just a moment. Somehow I was right. And it had me wondering, what was the point? What was the point in being okay with your loved one, your significant other, seeing other people—or at least saying you were okay with it—if you were going to get jealous anyway? What was the point if the hurt was still there? Why bother at all?

And she was pressing her hot lips to the fabric of my underwear, was giving light and playful sucks to it. And I hated the reaction I was giving, how my breathing hitched and how I had to fight to keep standing upright. How I wasn't really _doing_ anything to make her stop, even though I wanted to—did I want her to? I thought of the dream from the other day, but Sora…

Sora.

"Stop." And I said it with growing anger and fear, pushed the blonde away with enough force for her to fall onto her back with a sadistic giggle. Arms splayed out, like an angel—or winged demon—head lolling to one side as she continued to hold my gaze with hers. Something about those eyes… Hadn't I'd always thought she was dangerous. Yet I kept coming here…like it was some sort of security blanket…

"Mm-mm…" The woman shook her head, gave a drunken laugh. She wasn't entirely drunk, I was sure, but she wasn't sober. Wasn't just lightly buzzed—it was a little more than that. This wasn't okay, but she kept laughing. "Mm-mm, don't wanna stop."

"What is your deal? You don't need a body next to you to be able to sleep, you know."

"Not need." Another light laugh. Slowly, like a snake, she was sitting herself back up. Was sitting up on her knees, staring up at me with mock innocence. Playfulness. "Nothing a girl needs but what a girl _wants_…"

I found myself shaking my head, pushing my back further into the door, as if I'd sink through the wood. Had my palms pressed to its cool surface. Still furious, still shaken, as I bent down to lift my jeans back up. "You have problems."

"Think she's gone…"

And it took me a moment to realize she was talking about Paine. Who was in fact gone, now that I listened carefully. And the front door had slammed closed a few seconds later. But I turned my attention back to Larxene, who had thrown me off. The way she'd seemed to somber up so quickly, seemed to take a hushed tone so quickly… I threw me off so much that I hadn't noticed her crawl back up to me, hadn't had the time to keep her from yanking my pants back down. Put her knees on top of my feet, on top of the denim pooled around my ankles to keep me from lifting them back up.

"Don't!"

"For a guy who acts so tough, you're a big ol' baby, you know that?" And the underwear came down, even though I tried slapping her hands away. And eventually she got pissed, shot up and slammed me against the door. Pressed her tiny nose to mine, pressed her face to mine. Scared… _I'm scared._ And those acid colored eyes narrowed some more; the smirk now a snarl. "Most boys your age would kill for a moment like this."

"I have a girlfriend." A flimsy excuse she didn't care about. But I needed to say something. Why couldn't I move? I was stronger than her—why couldn't I move?

"The little hottie tottie… She don't gotta know." Moving down again, to her knees. I was exposed. And my body was reacting in a way that betrayed my thoughts, my feelings—but I couldn't deny the feeling _down there_, couldn't deny how it felt in spite of myself. But no, this needed to stop, she needed to—

"I would know..." I muttered.

She gave a simple response, spoken so matter-of-factly that it hurt. "Then keep it a secret."

And it was too late. Why couldn't I move? I was stronger, so why? And she was working her mouth, was having her way, and I had a hard time standing up, had a hard time breathing straight and trying to pry her off because as horrible as this was it… It. Felt. Good. And I was _loathing_ it, was loathing myself and her and everything and—fuu_uuck_!

And all I could do at that point was slip my eyes shut, bite my bottom lip, and think of Sora. Pretend it was Sora instead, but that didn't make me feel any better, didn't make the wrenching feeling in my gut go away, made me feel worse than before and guilty, but Goddamnitall, God _damn_ if that woman didn't know how to work her _mouth_!

I was on the floor, back still pressed to the bedroom door, when the woman had finished. When _I _had finished with a shuddering gasp, and she had swallowed it all… She had swallowed and licked her lips and gave me this disgustingly pleased look, like I had secretly enjoyed it—had I?—and that everything was going to be fine, just fine.

I wanted to slit her throat.

I didn't move right away. Couldn't. Voice cold, very thick. "You're a fucking bitch."

"It was just a little fun, baby. Just some fun, that's all it was. No strings attached. That's all it ever is. Plus—" And she was rising to her feet now, was straightening her dress that had become wrinkled in the process. Was turning her back to me, was walking to the bed, past it, to the closet. Like she had something fucking better to do. But she paused long enough to glance down at me over her shoulder, to flash me that wink and playful smile. "If you really hadn't wanted it, you would have fought harder."

So hard… It was so hard to talk right now, I was shaking so badly. Rage… I couldn't move, though. "I can have you arrested for rape."

"Wasn't rape."

"Assault."

"But you won't."

_You're sick, you're sick, you're sick, you're fucking sick. You're fucking sick and you've probably ruined me for life, but you don't give a damn because you're so fucking sick, you bimbo, you bitch…_

"Screw you."

"Maybe next time."

And I couldn't take it anymore, so I forced myself to my feet and fixed my pants and walked out of the room without another word.

I left feeling sick and used.

* * *

><p>Sora called me later that night to tell me about her therapy session. Her first meeting with some Dr. Whitfield, a gender therapist. And she sounded sooo excited, so happy, so… She sounded so different. Like a more confident, more energetic Sora, the kind of Sora that I knew she could always be. That I'd always known she could be. And she told me so much about how she really got along with Dr. Whitfield, how the woman knew her stuff, how her husband was actually a transsexual himself, how she had the cutest little twins.<p>

She told me about how she was already looking forward to her second meeting, how her mother was letting her go out more and more dressed up and was buying her more clothes and she was this close, _this close_, to just throwing out all of her boy clothes. But school, see? And her friends. She'd still hadn't broken the news to her other friends, but she was getting there. And Ring Dance! She couldn't wait. It was coming up, but no, no, what a long wait, and she was still amazed by the dress, was still trying it on and looking at herself in the mirror, and it still felt and looked amazing and she was so grateful for Roxas and I both, was so grateful for me and—

Was I listening? "Riku, are you listening?"

And I gave the occasional "Mm-hm," let her go on about how her life was changing so fast, so soon, and I nodded because I didn't know what to say. I was so happy for her, but I really didn't know what to say or do right now. And…

I wanted to see her.

I wanted to touch her.

I wanted to hug her.

I wanted to fucking kiss her.

I wanted her to hold me, because right now I felt like I needed it. Right now I felt like screaming—something, _something_, inside of me was screaming out for its dear life, but—

But my voice wasn't working.

But I didn't want her to worry.

But I wanted her to focus on her, wanted her to deal with her own shit, not mine.

But I didn't know what to say.

But I couldn't really focus on what Sora was telling me, couldn't— "Riku? Are you okay? Riku? Are you still there?"

"I need to go."

And there was something there, in her silence.

Something apprehensive.

Something worried.

Something adorably Sora, but it hurt…

"Is everything okay?"

I knew I should talk—I'd want her to do the same; always, I'd always wanted her to do the same because it hurt when she didn't talk to me. But I didn't know what to say, so I just lied. Lied and felt horrible about it as I did so, which was a first.

"Yeah. Just… I'm just tired."

"If you need to talk…"

"It's fine, Sora. I'm fine, don't worry."

"I don't believe you."

"Good night, Sora."

"Please talk to me. You can talk to me, Riku."

"Good night."

"…Call me later, okay? When you feel like it."

"Okay."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

We hung up.

I went to bed and fought hard not to cry.

* * *

><p>"Hello, Riku."<p>

Wednesday. After school. I'd gone straight to the police station, had told myself I needed to speak with someone and check in… The same officer who had helped me file my report, Office Awning she'd told me, had greeted me that evening with a polite smile and her soft voice. She and her baby face and its freckles and her sandy colored hair seemed too sweet and precious to be a cop—but I guess couldn't judge a book by its cover.

"Hey," I replied back, walking straight to her desk, ignoring the calm buzz of phones and cops passing messages back and forth to each other in the background. Not really in the mood for formalities, absently knocking my knuckles against the wooden surface of her desk. "Is there anything on my mom yet?"

That was a no. I could tell the way her eyes seemed to grow sad, seemed to fall a little. But she looked back up at me, tried to retain her smile as she spoke. "Well… We turned the case over to Missing Persons. That's what we always do, unless there's reason to believe the person in question is in immediate danger."

"I already told you, she was fine. Nothing threatened or anything, she just got angry and left."

"And I'm checking with them every day, hon. I'm talking with them every day and they check in with me, but…"

"Nothing."

Why the fuck did I even bother? It's what I wanted, wasn't it? My mom to just get out of my life so I could focus on mine?

But that was a lie and this was really pissing me off.

Officer Awning sighed. "I promise, the moment we find out something you'll be the first to know."

"Right."

"Here." She pulled a card from her desk, handed it to me. And she got another one, wrote my name on the back before handing it to me. Told me to give her my cell number so she could reach me. She still held her own phone number, her first card, in the other hand as wrote. "My number. If you ever have a question or…if you just want to talk."

"Sure." And I took her number, tucked it in my pocket after reading over it.

Then I left before she could say anything else.

* * *

><p>Thursday I skipped school and took pictures all day again.<p>

It wasn't very enjoyable.

* * *

><p>Friday I stayed in the apartment all day.<p>

* * *

><p>Saturday someone called the home phone five times. Then my cell, ten times, when I didn't answer. It was Naminé. I ignored them all.<p>

* * *

><p>Sunday I stayed in bed. All day. Even when Officer Awning called my cell, which I left tucked by my pillow. She left a voice message. She said they still hadn't found anything pertaining to my mother, but they were still searching. They would get in contact with her somehow, would tell me when they did so. But I just had to wait a little longer.<p>

I turned off the phone and figured that I didn't care.

* * *

><p>Monday I went to school again, but I ate lunch in the library. The only reason I got away with it was because the librarian knew me well enough, so she didn't say anything when I came in with my tray and juice carton. Just gave me a small nod and went back to reading her book as I took a seat at one of the rounded tables and poked at my food.<p>

Monday was also the day I decided to stop speaking to everyone. It was the day I decided to stop caring.

* * *

><p>Tuesday I came to the conclusion that I was legitimately depressed and maybe a little self destructive with my silence and apathy and withdrawal from everything. And I probably needed help.<p>

Too bad I didn't want to find any.

* * *

><p>I missed my mom.<p> 


	18. Protecting Me

**To Rally:** Since I don't have any other way to contact you, I just wanted to let you know that I hear you. Believe me when I say that I know. I truly _know_, so you don't have to worry about a thing.

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; I'll Gladly Lift You Up Without a Doubt<strong>

I'm going to back track a little from Saturday, from the troubling phone call I got from Cloud, to Tuesday where I had a troubling phone call with Riku. A little later after my first meeting with Dr. Whitfield, during the night. I'd called Riku, told him all about it. About everything I'd been feeling, about how amazing I felt even though this was just a start. It was just a start, I know, but I couldn't help but feeling free. You know?

I hadn't really stopped to think that, maybe, everything in Riku's life wasn't going as great. I mean… Yeah, we were taking a break. And I knew that wasn't anything to be happy about, but we needed it… And I knew it was killing him—I had thoughts too, when I wasn't thinking about everything else. Especially at night. I wanted him with me…

But something was wrong with Riku.

He hadn't really been paying attention to what I was saying.

He hadn't really responded to what I was saying.

He hadn't really sounded happy at all.

He hadn't sounded like he felt much of anything.

And it scared me, you know? I was so used to him having something to say—because Riku always had something to say. I was so used to him building me up when I got excited like this, so I hadn't expected him to suddenly tell me, "I need to go."

Something was wrong. You know, sometimes you can just tell when something's off. Like, there's a fire going off in your house or something and you get to the front door and smell the smoke before you even unlock it. Except this smoke was very thick and strong and starting to seep through the window cracks, into the air. It was choking the air, choking you. And the detector was going off at a blood curdling wail and fire truck sirens were ringing in the background.

Something was horribly wrong.

"Is everything okay?"

And I knew that everything wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. That was the vibe I was getting from him right now, from the slight pause he gave—very slight, but _I still caught it_—from the way he was probably frowning right now. I couldn't see him, but I had a feeling that was the case. And he wasn't saying anything. Then, eventually:

"Yeah. Just… I'm tired."

_No you're not._ "If you need to talk…"

"It's fine, Sora. I'm fine, don't worry."

"I don't believe you."

"Good night, Sora."

And I think I understood how he had felt that week I'd ignored him. I think I understood how he felt whenever I held something in, whenever I said I was okay when I clearly wasn't. There was an overwhelming, overbearing need to try to get him to talk and to try and help him. But there was a wall he was putting around himself, between him and me. And it hurt… Was this how he felt whenever I wouldn't confide in him? I was here, so why wouldn't he take advantage of that? Why wouldn't he open up to me when he knew he could?

I clutched my phone tightly in my hand. "Please talk to me. You can talk to me, Riku."

"Good night," he repeated.

I didn't know what to say for a moment. Pouted. "…Call me later, okay? When you feel like it."

"Okay."

He wasn't going to call.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

And we hung up after that.

Something was wrong. I'd have to figure out what.

* * *

><p>I had wanted Monday to be the day. I'd had a plan to sit down with my friends, maybe not all at once but with each of them whenever I got the chance during the day. I'd wanted to, carefully, bring up my plan. My checklist. My truth, my feelings. I wanted to basically tell them everything. But I couldn't focus on that at all.<p>

For the past week I couldn't focus on much of anything other than what was up with Riku. I hadn't called him since last Saturday, and he hadn't contacted me. I did send him a few texts that went unanswered. The whole thing gave me a sense of déjà vu. Except Riku was the one in my shoes this time, and I was the one worrying.

Was he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Or was there something going on at home? I knew he and his mother didn't get along, but maybe it had become more serious than usual… Maybe she was hurting him? Or maybe it was something else completely that I didn't know about, something he didn't want to tell me. Something he didn't think was worth telling me. But what? Why?

_This must have been how he felt… God, I'm horrible._

So I didn't really get the chance to sit down with my friends and come out as I'd planned. I didn't really focus in class, as much as I tried to. I kept discreetly checking my phone during the school day, in between classes, hoping some of my texts would have a reply. Or something. I wanted a shred of something.

I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I hadn't realized, near the last few minutes of school, that I was lingering a little too long around my locker. That I wasn't packing away what I needed for home fast enough. That, by the time I'd made it outside, my bus had already left. It took me about five minutes to realize that I had missed my ride home and would be better off catching a city bus. Or maybe walking… Thirty minutes wasn't that bad a walk, right?

"Sora."

Just as I made up my mind, I turned to see Hayner rushing from the school entrance. Sporting the usual black tank top, olive vest and camouflage pants. With his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked so familiar with his style, looked the same as he always did that it was kind of funny for me to think about how much everything else around me had changed. Was changing. Yet my friends seemed the same. I couldn't help but return the grin he shot at me as he caught up, lightly slapped me on the shoulder. "What's up with you anyway?"

"Huh?"

"You've been acting weird all day. Haven't really been talking to us lately, y'know?"

"Oh, sorry. Just…a lot on my mind nowadays."

It wasn't like I was trying to ignore them or anything, it was just… Well, things felt so much more different now. A good different. Like everything that was wrong in my life was turning around. But then there was Riku and the whole mystery surrounding him. And I was starting to worry again…

We started walking together, heading for the street. Eventually crossed over to the sidewalk on the other side, started strolling towards the length of houses not far from the school.

I figured, since the boy was here, I might as well bring it up… "Hey, Hayner? Can I tell you something?"

"Shoot."

"It's not… Well, it's not really easy to say. And you might not understand…"

"Then don't tell me," he said smoothly, folding his hands behind his head.

I found myself frowning, though, not as carefree. I'd been calm-ish a few minutes ago, but this sense of anxiousness had started to grip my heart for a very different reason. I didn't quite look at the boy, stared at my feet instead as we walked. "But I want—need to."

"Then tell me."

"But—"

"Spit it out, Sora." Laughing, now, in spite of the words. He was laughing amusedly, and his eyes with him, glancing over at me. "Jeez, I'm not gonna bite your head off or anything. We're buds."

Buds… _Take a deep breath, Sora. You can do this. It's now or later, and better it be now than later…_ "You know… You know how, sometimes, people are born with birth defects? Like an extra toe or a… A…"

"A third nipple."

I snorted at that, covering my mouth for a brief moment to stifle my laughter. Shook my head at him. "Yeah, like a third nipple. Or something more serious."

And when he didn't say anything to that, I just went on. Growing anxious again, growing solemn. Avoiding his eye.

"Like… Like being born blind or mute or deaf. And you know how, sometimes, people with those conditions do stuff to cope with it or fix it? Like if you're mute or deaf you learn sign language? Or if you're blind you get a cane or a seeing-eye dog."

"Yeah?" It was a horrible generalization, I felt, but Hayner seemed to be following. Seemed genuinely interested in where I was taking this conversation. I had to keep mentally chastising myself in order to calm down. Gripped my hands into fists on and off, eventually settled with putting them into my jacket pockets. Still didn't look Hayner in the eye.

"Well, I was born with sort of a birth defect... And I'm taking steps to cope with it now."

"Don't tell me you have three nipples, Sora, because I swear to God—"

"I'm being serious, Hay."

"What's wrong with you?"

"It's not that it's wrong, it's just different."

"Are you sick?"

"No." I looked at the boy then, fighting the urge to just stop talking. Because I needed to get this off my chest properly if things were going to keep changing. I needed to start getting this out to the people I cared about, to my friends. "Have you ever heard the word 'transgender' before?"

Instantly his demeanor changed. Off is the only way I can explain it. This time it was Hayner's turn to look away, to press his lips together thoughtfully. "Oh…"

"Yeah…"

"So, what, you wanna be a chick or something?"

"No. I. Am. A. Girl. It's not a matter of wanting it, Hayner. I've always been a girl. I was just born in a boy's body. In the wrong body. Like a birth defect."

"This is a joke, right?"

I blinked, paused for a moment. Joke? "No."

"I mean, how out of the blue can you get?"

"It's not out of the blue. I've known all my life that I was this way."

"It may not be out of the blue for you, but it's out of the blue for me." His voice sounded hard now, sounded really _off_, and I could tell he wasn't quite getting this. That he wasn't quite sure what to think or say, so he was just doing what Hayner usually did when that was the case and spewing the first thing that came to mind. "You can't just drop this on someone, Sora, and expect them to understand—"

Was he really saying this right now? Was he really saying this to me? Hayner, one of my closest friends? And he honestly thought it was a joke, honestly thought that there was a catch somewhere that he just wasn't seeing. It showed on his expression, a mixture of annoyed and exasperated at the same time. I scowled, shaking my head at him. Narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn't like I was asking him to understand it and be okay with it right away; I just wanted him to know. Him and the others… "If you're my friend, then I would have thought… Could you just… Could you tell the others for me? Just Pence and Olette, Selphie and Tidus. Just them."

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. Glancing at me briefly before shaking his head in disbelief.

My eyes never left him, still narrowed. "I mean it, Hayner. Please."

"I'll tell them, alright."

And we left it at that, kept walking down the sidewalk. There were no more words, no more exchanges of glances—Hayner wouldn't even look at me. It was clear he wasn't comfortable with the whole idea, clear that he still thought I was kidding around. But I didn't say anything else, and he didn't say anything else, and we just kept walking until we had to go down separate streets. Hayner to his neighborhood, which was luckily a few minutes' walk away from the school, and me to the bus stop since I'd already missed the school bus home. And the sandy haired boy waved me goodbye, smiled as he usually did when around me. But there was something different about it.

There was a divide between us now.

* * *

><p>Somehow Kairi had found out where Grams lived, had learned that I'd been staying there for the past few weeks. She'd been waiting for me in the living room when I got back from school that Tuesday, sitting on the couch and chatting with Grams about something or other. They both looked up at me when I walked in, both smiling. There was something strained about Kairi's expression, though…<p>

Grams started to rise to her feet, taking two empty glasses with her. "Hey, Sora. You have a guest."

"Hi," Kairi greeted with a wave, which I returned.

"Hey."

"Well don't just stand there," Grams fussed as she made her way towards the kitchen. "Sit down and talk with your lady friend. She came all the way out here— Did you want more juice, Kairi? Sora, juice?"

"Yes ma'am," we replied in unison, and the old woman nodded before disappearing into the kitchen. I didn't move until I heard the clatter of the fridge being opened, of food and drinks and containers being shifted around. (Grams always made a commotion in the kitchen, no matter what she was doing.)

Setting my bag on the carpet beside my feet, I settled myself next to Kairi, lightly nudging her knee with my hand. "I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been?"

"Yeah, I know." The smile broadened; blue eyes brightened just a bit. "I'm good. I just needed to talk to you in person."

"About?"

It was here that the smile grew sad, that she became solemn with her words. "It's about Riku."

Oh no…

Grams spared the red head my onslaught of questions for just a few minutes by popping back out with two fresh glasses of pineapple juice. She set them on the coffee table in front of us before bending down and pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. "I'm about to go run some errands, hon. You need anything?"

"Um, no thanks."

"Alright. You two don't have too much fun." And normally I would have been embarrassed or upset by the knowing wink she shot at the two of us. But I was too preoccupied with worried thoughts of Riku to really react.

We took steady sips of our juice as the woman shuffled around for her purse, waiting for her to find it. Waiting for her to leave. And it wasn't until the front door closed behind her and the sound of her car starting up met our ears that I turned my attention back to Kairi.

The girl gave another sad smile. "She thinks we're a couple. I kept telling her that we aren't, but she just thought I was being shy about it or something."

"Yeah… She's been acting like that ever since I came out." Like me liking a girl would change who I was, somehow, like it would make a difference. I shifted in my seat, frowning, clutching my juice in both of my hands nervously. "But Riku…"

"But Riku."

"What's wrong? Is he sick or something? Have you heard from him at all? Is he okay?"

And the girl blinked for a moment, realization crossing her face. "I was about to ask you that."

What?

"He hasn't been coming to school, Sora. Or, if he has, Nam and I don't see him. He's avoiding us for some reason and ignoring our calls, and I'm starting to get really worried… Are you two fighting?"

"No, no we're not…" Condensed water forming outside the glass slowly dripped to my fingers, making me feel colder than I already was. "I don't think so."

"Did he say something to you?"

"A while ago…" The phone call. It flashed back in my mind. His exhausted tone. The way he wouldn't really talk to me, really didn't want to talk to me… Why hadn't I pushed him harder until found out what was up? "When we last spoke over the phone, he sounded funny. Like something was bothering him, but he wouldn't say what. I tried to get him to talk, but…"

"Maybe he just doesn't want to talk to anyone."

We fell silent, thoughtful. The red head let her blue eyes fall to the coffee table. She picked her drink back up and sipped uncomfortably. And I was just thinking to myself right then, going over my last conversation with Riku again in my head. It seemed painfully ironic, when I thought about it. If anything, Riku had taught me in these past few months that it was better to open up and speak my mind. And here he was bottling everything up, making his friends worry. Driving them to worry more. How could we help him if he wouldn't tell us what the problem was?

And I got an idea in my head right then, was setting my drink back down and pressing a hand to Kairi's. "Let's go."

She eyed me curiously. "Huh?"

"We're going to his place. If he won't talk, we'll make him."

"Good idea."

* * *

><p>I think I underestimated just how close Kairi and Naminé were to Riku. The realization hit me on the bus, when Kairi and I were talking to pass the time away. Talked about what could possibly be bothering the silver haired male so much, what could have him so secluded from everyone. Talked about how, maybe, it involved his mother somehow. It was just a feeling we both had. And Kairi seemed to know a lot more about the history between Riku and his mother than I did.<p>

Like how, when her drinking got lethally bad, he would just leave the apartment until the she sobered up. Because, when he'd been ten, she nearly gave him a severe concussion by throwing a wine bottle at him. It had been a one time thing, but he didn't trust her alone with him whenever she was drunk.

Or how Riku's mother had almost been arrested for a domestic disturbance once. Some man she had dated—"And I use the term 'date' very loosely, Sora."—some man that frequented the strip club that she worked at. He had tried to hurt her. He hadn't expected the woman to pull a knife on him and stab him twice. Riku had came in at the last minute, had rushed to call 911. The man had recovered, but shortly after he was the one who got locked up for assault. A little later Riku's mother had been set free because the incident had been an act of self defense in her case. In spite of everything, Riku had blamed her for bringing the man home in the first place.

Or how, as much as she claimed to love him, part of Riku truly thought she hadn't wanted him in the first place. Part of him would manifest, a part that was as self depreciating and self hating as they came. But that part rarely came out—at least, to Kairi's knowledge. There were just so many stories, so much that I hadn't known. So much that Kairi and Naminé had found out over the six years they'd known Riku—and most of it was information that they'd had to pry out of him in the beginning. Now, between the three of them, it was just common knowledge. They cared just as much about him as I did, but their mindset had been, "Really, is there anything we can do?"

Worry ate at me the entire ride there.

We both ended up rushing towards the complex when we got off the bus, rushing straight to the second floor and knocking on his door. We knocked and knocked, rang the doorbell. Checked the knob only to find it locked up tight. For about twenty minutes we kept calling the home phone only to hear it ring from inside, only to hear it be ignored. We called the boy's name through the door, hoping someone would open. Kairi called his mother's name— "Miss Molly, please…"

Nothing.

"No one's home," I muttered downheartedly after a moment of silence.

Kairi frowned, clenching her petite hand into a fist and resting it on the door. Frowned. "Or he's just not answering."

"Mm…"

"We can wait until he comes out. Or comes back, wherever he is."

"Okay."

I really didn't get this. I really didn't. If he was inside, then… Well, he needed to get his act together and get his butt out here. As hypocritical as I was, as ironic as this situation was, I found myself hating the fact that Riku was acting exactly like me. Hating the fact that, not so long ago, he was the one in my boat; he was the one who had felt this way. Hating the fact that I had made him feel this way…

Kairi ended up sitting down against the door, knees bent and purse in her lap. Checking her phone every now and then, texting Naminé it seemed. And I couldn't stay calm long enough to want to sit down, so I started pacing around with arms crossed. Twenty more minutes. Maybe too much, maybe not enough, but that was how much time we decided to wait.

I spotted _her_ in ten.

Her face was the first thing that I noticed and focused in on. Yes, she had a nice blouse and skirt and everything—looked like something I would buy; a rosy color, both of them—but it was her face that drew me in and had me stopping in my tracks. Had me staring a little wide eyed. Slicked back light blonde hair, a pink head band holding down what looked like bangs. Cool greenish blue eyes—or were they bluish green? And she seemed to notice me staring at her from over the second floor railing, had slowed in her walk as she approached the building. Arched a brow at me.

I shook my head as recognition washed over me. That woman… Didn't Riku have pictures of her on his cameras? I remembered, when I first went through them. There had been so many of her that I wondered who she was. Who was she to him? And he'd admitted to taking her pictures, had said that she made him uneasy. But money was money. It was definitely her. "Wait…"

"What's up?" Kairi was on her feet, approaching me. Curious.

"I know that woman." Before the girl could even reply, I rushed down the stairs, towards the woman who was walking off to her apartment beyond the pass. Caught up with her just as she stopped in front of her door. "Excuse me!"

The woman didn't even stop to look up at me again. Just dug around in her purse for her keys, lips pressed into a thin line. "Can I help you?"

"Have you seen Riku?"

She looked at me for a moment, as if trying to figure something out. Then her whole demeanor changed and she got this excited look on her face, smiled slyly. "Oh. My. God. _You're_ the hottie tottie."

I blinked. "Ex…excuse me?"

And I heard Kairi walk up behind me just as the blonde gave her next response, heard the gasp the red head gave when the woman said what she said. And I swear, I just froze when I heard those words come out her mouth:

"He didn't tell me his girlfriend had a penis."

Ex—

Excuse

Me?

It felt like a slap in the face. Like she was reaching inside of me and tearing out a small piece—and enjoying it while she did so. My first thought, _Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you TALK to me that way!_ My second thought, _How do you know? Riku told you about me?_

It probably made a little sense that she would know about me; Riku worked with her after all. Or maybe, had worked with her. I didn't know if they were still setting up photo shoots and whatnot, but that wasn't what concerned me. No, it was the sly way she was smirking at me and the way her eyes seemed to narrow and light up at the pained expression on my face. It was the fact that she seemed to know me while I knew next to nothing about her.

And, instantly, I knew we weren't going to get along. But I couldn't speak after that. I felt my face get hot, felt embarrassment and a hint of shame rise up in me because she was giving me that look— Why would Riku share something like that with her? Had he? Or had she just guessed, had she pried it out of him? I couldn't speak.

Luckily I had Kairi. She spoke up for me, took on an angered tone. "Have you seen him or not?"

"No. Riku doesn't stay here anymore."

"What?"

"He was staying with me for a little bit, but…" The woman trailed off, her expression changing to something colder. Something… I couldn't place it. After a moment she frowned and gave Kairi a pointed look. "Point is, he ain't around here anymore."

"He stayed with you?"

"Well, yeah. Mommy issues or something. But he stepped out the other day and hasn't been back since."

Kairi gave an aggravated sigh, pulling her phone out and turning away from the two of us. "I'm calling him right now."

"Good luck with that." She rolled her eyes, finally managed to get her keys out of her purse and slipped it through the lock. After what seemed like ages, I managed to get more words out, managed to get over my shock.

"Um, wait." She paused when she pushed the door open, eyed me curiously. I bit my bottom lip. "Did you… Were you two close?"

"Not particularly." She said it so matter-of-factly, without a second thought. Then she flashed me a fake smile and stepped inside her apartment. "Later girly boy."

* * *

><p>Wednesday at school was awkward. I had expected as much, but still.<p>

I saw Pence pass me by in the hallway during first bell, when I had taken a pass to the bathroom. He gave me… He gave me a weird look. Like he didn't know what to make of me. And I knew Hayner had told him about Monday, about our conversation, about me coming out. I knew that he knew, and I knew that he wasn't sure about any of it either. And I had to keep what Rox had told me some time ago in my head—that it wasn't so easy for everyone, that they needed time to at least think about learning more…

So he didn't say anything to me and I didn't say anything to him and we just kept walking past each other.

Tidus and Selphie weren't at lunch. Olette had told me that they were both absent today, but the uncomfortable way she was looking away from my eyes and the tight smile on her mouth told me otherwise. And Olette and I… Well, she didn't really say much to me the entire time, and I didn't really want to make her talk when she was so uncomfortable. You know? The brunette was quick to dart off when the bell rang, muttering something about being late to class.

Hayner seemed to be…the same. Sort of. He talked to me like he usually did during gym, and we stuck together as usual. And he didn't seem that bothered by my presence. Didn't bring up our conversation from Monday; probably considered it the elephant in the room that shouldn't be touched. And I told myself that it was okay, that at least he had taken the time to listen and had told the others like I'd asked him to. It was fine…

And I had to ignore some of my own thoughts, some of the pained feelings that welled up in me when I got to thinking how my friends weren't reacting how I'd hoped they would. They were my _friends_ after all—but I had to put myself in their shoes, had to think about it from their view. From Hayner's view.

_It may not be out of the blue for you, but it's out of the blue for me…_

This was out of the blue for them, completely left field. They weren't getting it, but that was okay. They just needed time, I guessed… All of them just needed more time to understand. They'd come around.

I kept telling myself that while feeling angry and betrayed all the same.

* * *

><p>Cloud, Seifer, and Axel. Axel, Seifer, and Cloud. I wonder… Which order should I tell it in? Maybe the one that makes the most sense, from the beginning to the very end. Even though, to be honest, it didn't really make a whole lot of sense to me. Not until later. That I would run into all three guys in one night.<p>

Cloud.

Seifer.

Axel.

So I'll rewind it just a bit.

It was a Thursday, the night of a small social get-together for my support group. Rikku had called me earlier to tell me about it, and even though I kept telling her that I didn't really feel up to it she managed to coax my address out of me and dropped by around seven. Talked to Grams a bit while I took my time changing and dressing up semi-formal. Rikku had clapped her hands together when she saw me, had felt up some of the curls on my wig when I made it to the foot of the stairs. Had told Grams that we'd probably be out a little late, but that she'd definitely have me back.

Grams frowned and didn't say anything as we left.

And had I known that the blonde was going to drag me to some club, I probably wouldn't have bothered with any of it. Because I wasn't really up to having fun at the moment, not when I was still worrying about Riku. Not when I couldn't get the boy out of my head, not when I was calling him and texting him all day, every few hours. How could I enjoy myself when I didn't know what he was going through? It didn't seem fair…

So I was stuck at this club with Rikku, some place out in town she had discovered, a place that checked ID's regularly—but Rikku had connections and managed to get me and the rest of our support group in somehow. She was out on the dance floor, brushing up against some cute brunette from our support group—I think her name was Penny—and truly having fun. Every now and again, in between songs, she'd walk back to me at the bar and try to get me to dance with her or to dance period, but I kept turning her down and opted to drink glass after glass of water and juice. Offered to watch her purse instead, said that I'd be fine and that she should go enjoy herself. Eventually she gave up and let me have my way.

I spoke a little bit with some of the members of our support group, just the ones that dropped by the bar for a drink in between dances. And two other guys who had asked me to dance, but I politely declined for each one. It would just be dancing, but still. I was still thinking about Riku, still checking my phone every few minutes to see if I got any new messages from him. He was killing me with this…

"Hit me up. Surprise me."

And we come to boy one. Cloud.

"Oh!" I'm sure I threw him off guard with my sudden exclamation. Especially since he had just come up for another drink. The bartender had taken his glass, was already working on some other concoction, but Cloud locked eyes with me and had a look of surprise on his face. "Sora?"

And I jumped a little because I had half expected him to not recognize me—then remembered that he didn't know "boy Sora" at all. So of course he'd recognize me. I had just hoped…

"Sora, look—"

I stopped him before he could say anything else, not really looking at him and taking a small sip of water. "No, Cloud. I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I already told you—"

"Just hear me out."

We looked at each other then. The bartender—a rather burly bald man with a light scar across his eye—placed the blonde's drink beside him. But Cloud ignored it and gave me this serious look. An almost regretful one. "I was out of line. I said some things I shouldn't have and I wasn't thinking at the time, so I want to apologize for that."

"Mm…"

"I'm sorry."

He really was a sweet guy. That didn't make what he said okay, but this was a step, no? At least he was being honest. That's all I could really ask for.

So I found myself giving a small smile after a moment of thought and replying, "It's alright. Just don't do it again."

He lifted his glass to his lips. "Deal."

Rikku took that moment to step in. I guessed the music had turned down enough for people to take a short break, and the DJ looked like he was getting together some more tunes. People were heading to the bar or restroom or other corners of the room. But Rikku was the one I had noticed first, and she wrapped her arm around me when she approached. "Well what's going on here?"

"Nothing," I said, immediately picking up on where she was going with this.

She gave me a 'Do I look stupid?' look before glancing over at Cloud. Grinned at him. "Well aren't you cute?"

"Rikku!"

Cloud waved it off though, laughing and saying that it was okay. Something clicked then—I could see it in his eyes and Rikku's—and in spite of the situation I found myself happy about the seemingly instant spark I was witnessing. Cloud flashed a grin at Rikku. "Thanks for that."

She wasted no time and jumped right in there. (How was this woman so forward? Not that it was a bad thing, but honestly.) "Wanna dance?"

He shot me a look, as if wondering if it was okay. Then smiled when I gave him an amused nod and held out a hand for Rikku to take. "Sure, why not?"

And before the woman could run off to the dance floor with him, I took her other hand and motioned her to lean in close to me. She bent down so that I could whisper, "That's Cloud."

Green eyes widened for just a bit, then she gave a grin. Whispered back so that only I could hear her. "Oh-em-gee, girl. I don't blame you for wanting to cheat."

"I never wanted to cheat."

"But _look_ at him." A slight pause. "Is it weird that I'm about to go dance with him, then?"

"Sorta…but I don't care."

"For sure?"

"Go ahead."

"You really, really sure?"

"Oh my God, Rikku, just dance with him."

"Everything okay?" Cloud asked as we whispered amongst ourselves. A light blush dusted my face as Rikku shot back up and turned to face him.

"Yuppers. Sorry 'bout that." She winked at me, releasing my hand. "I'll be back."

"Don't have too much fun," I called after her, just causing her to pump her hands in the air.

"No such thing as too much fun!"

Then she and Cloud were off dancing, getting real close but not too close, you know? Close enough in a way that was acceptable between two strangers, but a little more intimate than that. I couldn't help but think that they were really cute together.

The bartender, who was currently cleaning an empty glass with a red washcloth, nodded in their direction before looking to me. He didn't smile or anything, but there was a kind way about him. "Lively friend you've got there."

"She's a handful," I told him with a laugh before glancing at my empty glass. "Can I have another water, please?"

"Sure, hon."

While he poured me a drink, another person took the seat previously occupied by Cloud.

"Hey there, pretty lady."

And boy two. Seifer.

I didn't recognize him by voice, no, but rather his face. By the familiar beanie on his head, by the way I could still make out the sculpted shape of his body underneath the dress shirt and pants he had on. He looked casually dressed down but still somewhat formal, still like a respectable young man out on the town. Looked a little older than he truly was, which was probably how he had gotten in.

But he didn't recognize me. I froze when I got a look at his face, eyes wide.

He just took that as encouragement to go on, I guess, because this smile broke onto his face. Something cool and charming and flirty and—was this really the same guy that messed with me in the locker room? Was this really the same crude guy that got a kick out of calling me a sissy fag? "You look awfully lonely. Care to dance?"

"No thank you." _Please…don't let him notice._ Could he see the fear in my eyes? I didn't want him to notice, not him of all people… _Please walk away. Please don't notice it's me…_

"Don't be like that. A body like yours should be on the dance flo—" But he stopped. He stopped and stared, smile fading, and he examined my face a lot more carefully than I would have liked. Narrowed his eyes. "Have we met before?"

Instantly I looked away from him, fingered my glass of water. Why wouldn't he just leave? "No. Never."

"You look like someone I know." And without warning he reached out a hand and grabbed my chin, jerked my head upward to look at him. His fingers were hot against my skin… I couldn't breathe. There was something cold in his voice when he whispered, "Spikey."

No. No, no, no… Crap, no…

"Hey." The bartender was kind enough to roughly grab Seifer's wrist, to pull his hand away from my face. He was giving the younger male a hard amber stare. "The lady said no thank you, so back off."

That seemed like more than enough to drive Seifer elsewhere. He yanked his arm free and left the bar, walked off to a group of three boys that I assumed were his friends. Yeah… I recognized them from school. Crap. I waited until the boy was gone and out of sight before looking to the bartender.

"Thank you," I managed to say, trying to make myself stop shaking.

"I don't like his kind." He shook his head as if disgusted. "Guys who think they're entitled to whatever they want. Guys who think no means yes. If he bothers you again, you come get me."

I gave the man a grateful smile. "Thank you so much."

The rest of the night passed rather quickly. I did notice that Seifer and his friends had left, so I figured it was okay. But they were waiting around outside by the time Rikku and I trailed out of the club behind a few other people. It was late and she was my ride home, but I didn't move too far from the door when I spotted the group of four boys. A little ways out in the parking lot, but together. Talking. Looking in our direction. I think I saw Seifer match my gaze when he spotted me.

Rikku wasn't really paying attention to them, was stopping with me by the door and going on about how much she enjoyed the night. Oblivious to the discomfort on my face. "Oh my God, Cloud's so funny! He doesn't look like it, but he's got jokes! I think he touched my butt, too. Or maybe that was someone else, I wasn't really paying attention."

"You like him?"

"Sure. He's nice. I totally think he's still into you, though?"

I eyed her curiously. "Why?"

"One of his friends was asking about you after we got done dancing, and I swear he had this _look_ on his face. You know, that look?"

"What look?"

"The look of love, Sora!" She exclaimed this while nudging me, then she ended up wrapping her arm around mine with a laugh. She made to keep walking, was pulling me with her, but I pulled her back.

"Wait."

"What's wrong?"

"Where's your car?"

"Somewhere. I 'unno, over there I think." She nodded in the direction of Seifer and his friends, and that just made me swallow hard. Normally I didn't react like this, but when I thought about it… Four guys, not necessarily grown men but pretty darn close. Two girls out by themselves in the middle of the night. And those guys kept throwing weird looks at the two of us. Like they _knew._ Seifer had said something… Who in their right mind would like this picture?

Rikku finally picked up on my uneasiness, examining the group carefully. "You know them?"

"They're from my school," I mumbled worriedly, clutching her arm tighter to me. "One of them recognized me earlier, and I think he told his friends… I don't wanna walk by them."

"Mm… Yo, Cloud!"

I jumped at how suddenly she had shouted, turned around to see said blonde emerging from the club with his friend in tow. Zack's face lit up when he caught sight of me. "Hey there!"

I gave a small smile back—how can you not smile back at Zack? "Hey."

"You mind walking us to my car?" Rikku nodded right towards Seifer and his group, frowning. "Those guys over there. They've been watching us."

Cloud eyed them for a moment—they were already noticing that we weren't alone anymore, already starting to split up and leave. Then Cloud glanced at his friend. "Zack."

"Got it. I'll come with."

Rikku beamed. "Thank you, gentlemen."

Seifer and his gang were already gone by the time we made it to Rikku's little Hyundai. Thank God.

Zack and Cloud wished us good night when we were settled and buckled into the car, waving. (I swear, Cloud and Rikku had eyes only for each other.) Then we were off and away.

I felt so much better…

Rikku dropped me off back home, still talking about the night as we approached the house. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I really didn't care at the moment. I just wanted to get home and go to bed.

"Night," I told her when we pulled into the driveway. I noticed a familiar looking car parked by the mailbox when I got out and stepped onto the pavement, but didn't think too much about it. Looked to my blonde friend instead, took in her smile.

"Alright, girl. Your granny won't be too mad?"

"That you abducted me and took me clubbing until midnight? Nah, I think she'll be fine."

She laughed for a bit, and as strange as I felt I couldn't help but laugh with her. The young woman reached out of her window and squeezed my hand. "See you later, Chilli. Don't forget we got a meeting next Saturday."

"Right."

Then she backed out and drove off. I turned up the walkway right then, anxious about facing Grams still dressed up for a night on the town. Still nervous and tired and anxious, but all of that turned to confusion when I looked up and saw a familiar face walking out of the house and heading straight towards me. A face I didn't think I'd see again, not any time soon. A face that made my mind go blank.

Boy three. I was just running into everyone in one night, wasn't I? What were the chances?

"Axel?"

The red head stopped just yards away from the front door, feet in front of me. Eyeballed me curiously before realization hit him and a sheepish expression crossed his angled face. "Whoa. Didn't recognize you for a second."

"What are you…"

"Visiting," he stated casually.

I arched a slender brow at him. "What?"

"Roxas. He and your mom were over a while ago and Rox asked me to drop by, so I did. They left earlier, though, so I was just talking to your grandma." He gave his signature grin, something a little lazy and sly and cool all at once. Stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, letting his thumbs hang out. "She's pretty fly for an old lady."

"I'll let her know you think so." And I couldn't really figure out what I was feeling at that moment, didn't know what else to say, so I started past him with my eyes on my feet. Holding onto my purse strap tightly.

"Wait." Surprise leaked into his tone then, and it was the suddenness with which he spoke that had me turning around to face him again. "That's it?"

"I've got nothing to say to you," I said quietly. Not in a mean way, but not nicely either.

He just shrugged and let out a light breath. Waved me off and turned to head to the car that I just now realized was his. (No wonder it had looked so familiar… Was that a different paint job?) The red head was shaking his head as he pulled out his keys and walked off. "Alright, whatever."

I watched him for a long, silent moment. Watched him slip into his car and buckle his seat belt and mess with his music station. And I kept thinking about that night at the club—why was is still so vivid in my head? I thought about the day I'd walked in on him and Roxas kissing—and I'd gotten over that; I forgave Roxas for that. But still… And before I knew it, I was running over to the driver's side of his car, was knocking on his window. He rolled it down, stared at me questioningly.

"Just wait. I know it's passed, Axel, and I know we're moving on, but… I want you to tell me the truth. Why?"

A pause. "Why?"

I nodded, voice soft. "Why."

"You really want the truth?"

"I do."

"Because you were there and willing. And Roxas wasn't. That's why."

It sounded so…so simple. When he said it like that. Like it was something I should have known from the start, something I should have known all along. And I think, after that night, I did. I just had to hear it from him, you know? It hurt to, but I'd asked… And it hurt. I felt my jaw clench a little, felt my eyes grow a little cold. "That's supposed to help your case?"

He didn't looked fazed in the slightest, didn't seem perturbed at all. Gripped the steering wheel in one hand as he leaned closer to me and said as plainly as possible, "You said nothing about forgiving me. You said you wanted the truth, and I'm giving it to you."

"So you never cared at all."

"That's a fucking lie." And when I jumped at the sharp tone he took, his voice grew soft. His whole expression, his demeanor. It softened and he shook his head. Green eyes seemed to be searching my soul. "That's a lie, Sora. I cared. There was always a part of me that cared. Just…"

"The rest of you loved Rox more," I whispered.

"Sort o… Yeah. But I did care. Not love, but more than like. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry for that. But if you're saying you want nothing to do with me, then I'm not gonna bitch and whine and linger on it more than I need to."

And it took a whole lot out of me. It took a lot of me to… I'd fallen silent for so long that I had the red head watching me carefully, like I was about to pass out or something. Eventually I managed to say it. Eventually I managed to get it off my chest, and when I did I found that a lot of the hurt that had started welling up inside of me again was released.

"I forgive you."

Axel blinked in confusion. "What?"

"For telling me the truth. I forgive you."

He was quiet for so long. He probably thought he hadn't heard me right, probably thought I was joking. But I was being completely serious and staring at him with a reserved expression. There was no question as to why, no thank you—and he didn't need to say thank you, really, because I knew he appreciated it. I saw the relief there on his face. I knew he understood that he didn't deserve it, and I knew that he didn't deserve it. But it was okay, because the past was past and it didn't matter anymore. That's the way I saw it, in any case.

It was okay.

"You're really something else, Sora."

I couldn't help but smile. "I'm just me."

I didn't flinch or anything when he slowly reached out a hand and rubbed my cheek. "Good night, Sora."

"Bye, Axel."

"Do me a favor."

"What?"

He moved his hand then, still smiling. Letting out a small sigh. And he said two simple words before driving off into the night that made me love him all over again. If only for a little bit.

"Stay beautiful."

* * *

><p>I'd told Grams that I wouldn't be back on Friday. That I was staying over at a friend's place and I would probably be back a little late in the day on Saturday. I'd packed an overnight back with three changes of clothes—just in case—my makeup and curling iron, the whole shebang. I had gone out in my girl clothes, a dress Mom had bought me. Grams had taken one look at my flattened hair and outfit and waved me off. Didn't really say anything. Probably didn't want me in the house dressed up anyway. (The way she was acting, I was seriously considering moving back in with Ma and Rox.)<p>

I didn't let it bother me, thought, and went on my way.

Riku still wasn't home by the time I made it to his apartment, but I told myself that I wouldn't let that bother me. I'd wait all night long if I had to. I even entertained the thought of checking in with the model woman downstairs…but decided against it. Something about her rubbed me the wrong way.

So it was going on seven by the time I saw any sign of life outside that night. I had settled myself against the wall by Riku's door, had occupied my time with my phone and thoughts of what I would say when I caught a hold of the boy at last. It was around seven when I heard footsteps, when I looked up and saw the familiar face approaching the door.

I looked up to see him grind to a halt, to stare in surprise. He had a laundry basket of clothes tucked under one arm, was holding it up with the other. And we just kind of stared at each other for one silent eternity that, in actuality, lasted for twenty seconds. Then I was dropping my things on the ground and rushing towards him. Pulling him into a tight hug, making him drop his basket and his clothes, but I didn't care. And he just kind of stood there awkwardly, still in shock, as I pressed a hand to the back of his head and pulled him into me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I was shaking and whispering. Shaking and rocking my head from side to side, shaking and holding onto him like I would lose him if I did otherwise. "Why didn't you tell me what was wrong, Riku? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Sora…" He sounded so tired. So… Like he didn't know what to think. Or like he didn't want to think. And it hurt, so I just pressed my face to his chest and slipped my eyes shut.

"Please don't… Don't hold it in. For your sake and mine, please talk to me."

He wrapped his arms around me at last, hugged me close. Didn't let go. Like he had missed this—I'd missed it too. And we stayed like that for what seemed like ages before he finally said, "Let's go inside."

We got our things and slipped inside the darkened apartment. The platinum haired teen was quick to flick on the lights, illuminating the many opened boxes of…well, stuff, lying around the living room. Clutter had been cleaned up. Personal belongings looked like they were being packed away. Everything looked a lot cleaner than I'd remembered. The apartment itself looked bigger than I remembered.

I gave a low whistle, closing the door behind me. "It looks empty."

"I'm packing things up," Riku explained. A short pause. He didn't look me in the eye, headed for the hallway towards his room. "I'm staying with Aerith…"

"Why?"

"My mom's not around."

"What do you mean not around?"

Another pause. Longer. He waited until we were both in his room, until I set my stuff down on the floor and was sitting on his bed, until he had the basket set down in front of it. He waited before he talked. He dumped out the clothes in his basket on the floor and started sorting them, started folding it without looking at me. An unreadable expression on his face. "She left, Sora. I haven't seen my mother in two weeks."

Oh my God. So it had involved his mother after all… I didn't quite know what to say for a moment. "What happened?"

And he told me what had happened. He told me everything after that, because he probably couldn't hold it in any longer. He told me everything that had happened, from the argument he and his mother had had to an incident he'd had to experience at his model neighbor's house. And I knew that she hadn't been any good, knew that there was something about her that I didn't like, but I was nowhere near prepared for what Riku told me.

I wasn't prepared at all.

All I could do was sit there on his bed and stare in complete and utter shock as Riku told me—rather emotionlessly—what had happened as he folded his clothes. What she had done. What he had let her do. How horrible and sick he had felt about it ever since, but what was done was done and… He was saying it like it was okay, like he was over it. But it wasn't okay. Oh my… It _wasn't _okay! My voice had left me after he finished telling me everything. My thoughts were jumbled. But the same one kept circulating violently through my head.

_That was rape… That was rape, she… I don't care what anybody says; as far as I'm concerned that's considered rape. Molestation, assault. And she'd been smiling at me the other day, that bitch. And… Riku. Oh my God… No, why… Why?_

Stunned. Disgusted on some level, but I tried not to let it show on my face. That woman. That. Fucking. Woman… No wonder. No wonder… This. He'd been carrying all of this on his own for so long? He'd been holding all of this in without any desire to tell me, any desire to get help? I shook my head, barely getting my words out. "You have to tell someone. The police."

"No." That was the most emotion I'd heard in his voice all night. Anger. Frustration.

"Riku—"

"_No_," he snapped, looking up at me. "No, Sora."

"You have to!"

"And then what? Like they'll have any evidence to pin her with."

"They'll have your word!"

"And that's all they'll have. Even with that, it might not be enough. She'll probably walk. Just my word? And not even that much," He tossed the shirt he was folding back into the basket, knocked the basket over and giving up the task of folding his clothes altogether. Bitter and angry and hurt. He all but glared at me. "Because I'm not talking."

"Riku—"

"They still haven't found anything on my mother, Sora. Not a damn thing. Yeah, if they do find her she'll probably be in trouble for leaving, but in the meantime what? They'll probably throw me in a shelter until they can get a hold of her. And if not that, then some foster care. You expect me to trust them with this? You really expect me to tell them a damn thing when it can only make things worse? And how am I supposed to let them handle _that woman_, huh? How can you expect me to just tell them about what she fucking did to me and expect it to all go away, huh? It's my own fucking fault in the first place, going over there when I knew she was trouble. You think they'll just put all the blame on her and make it go away?"

"I'm not saying they'll take the pain away, Riku. I just want you to talk. But you won't. That's what she wants." Couldn't he see that? Couldn't he see that he was letting her win? I rose to my feet, shaking my head at him. "She wants you to keep quiet and she expects you to because she thinks she can get away with it."

"She already has," the boy bit out.

"Listen to me. Riku." And when he looked away, I raised my voice. "_Listen to me._"

"I'm listening."

"Please… You need to tell someone. Someone who can help you."

"No."

My _GOD_, he was so stubborn!

"Why are you doing this?"

"The answer's no."

"You need to _speak out_."

"Why?"

"Because you have a voice!" I pounded my fist against my other palm, narrowed my eyes. Still speaking fervently but keeping my voice at a decent volume at the same time. Getting closer to him as the words flowed out. "Because that's what you taught me. Because it'll help. Because you're stronger than that, I know you are. You're strong and you need to open your mouth, Ri—"

He kissed me, then. I knew it was to shut me up, but it still felt nice and took my breath away. Just a little. But it felt different. Sloppier, looser. Like he wasn't really into it, not completely, like he wasn't truly kissing me because he wanted to but because—again—he needed to keep me quiet. And his voice was a hoarse whisper when we broke apart, and he had his hand tilting my chin up so that he could look right into me. "I want to forget, Sora. That's all I wanna do. I love you, but you're making it hard."

There was no fighting the tears in my eyes. I reached a hand up, wrapped my fingers around his. "I want to get you help."

"Just help me forget."

We fell to the bed. Or, more really, he shoved me onto the bed. Hard. I wasn't sure if he had meant to or not, but it worried me, scared me. The way he pinned me to the sheets, the hungry and desperate way he was trialing nips along my skin. On my neck, to my chest. His hands were moving much faster than I could react. "Wai… Riku, wait."

"Please." That one word… Everything he was feeling was in that one word, and I swear I felt my heart break when he choked it out. I really didn't understand why he was doing this, and yet I did. I didn't want him to try to forget, and yet I did. I didn't want him to keep kissing me and touching me the way he was—but I actually did. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen him in so long…

He stopped long enough to look at me, searching. Pleading. Silently asking me if it was okay, if only for tonight. Could he cope with it this way, just for tonight?

And I pressed my hands to his cheeks and started crying with him. Leaned up to kiss him through his tears. "Okay."

We lost ourselves in the passion of that night and didn't look back.

* * *

><p>Riku was still sleeping by the time I woke up—around noon—still curled up against me with this almost relaxed expression on his pale face. Almost angelic. Peaceful.<p>

But I kept remembering last night.

He'd been so… So out of it. Like a piece of him had been ripped out… This wasn't fair. I wanted him to stay like that, always. To stay peaceful and calm and whole, but the moment he woke back up would be the moment the memories would rush back, those feelings would rush back… And I just kind of stayed there in bed, still lying down, still with my arm around the teen's waist. And I couldn't keep the small tears from dripping from my eyes again, couldn't keep from silently crying a second time because it wasn't fair at all.

I wanted him to tell me that woman's name. Who she was. _Who the hell did she think she __**was**__?_ She had no right, she had _no right_ to touch him. Even if he should have known better, even if he had known she was up to no good. I couldn't blame him for it, because ultimately she was the one that had initiated it. Ultimately she was the one who had pushed him, and I hated her. Loathed her. And I was furious and disgusted and confused all over again, but still crying and…

I slipped out of bed after a few minutes, (ignoring the slight soreness of my backside), headed for the bathroom out in the hall. Wiped at my face, trying to forget how Riku had acted last night. He'd hurt me a little, but I was sure he hurt more. I was sure I… I needed to do something. What? What did you do in this kind of situation? What would Riku do if it had been me? What did I do? There had to be something, someone…

Nothing really came to mind at first, so I just kind of walked around the apartment for a bit. Paced, really. Took me a while to realize I still wasn't clothed, so I went back to the room to grab my spare clothes. As quietly as I tried to change, I think I still woke up the silver haired boy. His voice was a little hoarse when his milky green orbs fluttered open and settled on me. "You're up."

I'd almost jumped from how suddenly his voice had spoken, but the surprised feeling passed as I tugged my t-shirt over my head. (A pink one with Tinker Bell on it. No bra and stuffings this time, I'd just go with a flat chest for the day. At least my hair was still kind of flattened…) I nodded as I pulled on my skirt, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"S'fine."

No, why did he sound so tired? Why did he still sound so tired and, and…and so out of it? Like last night. And an image from last night flashed in my head, his tears. His crying face and the way he'd thrown me onto the bed and the way he'd pleaded and…

Slowly, I set my bag aside and seated myself beside him on the bed. Reached out a hand to his face, and when he didn't make any move to stop me I ran soft circles on his cheek. He didn't sit up, just continued to lie there and stare up at me wordlessly. Sort of. Like he wasn't quite seeing me even though his gaze matched mine, even though it felt like he was staring into my soul.

My voice was a whisper. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Dunno…"

"Do you want me to stay with you, Riku? Because I will."

"Y…yeah, I do."

"Then I'll cook something."

"There's no food in the fridge."

"Oh…"

A tired rush of air left his nostrils—you know, the kind where your whole body seemed to sigh with you, where you didn't need to open your mouth—and he lifted a hand to brush his fingers against mine for a moment. Then he pointed to the nightstand behind him, on the other side of the bed. Slipped his eyes closed as he talked. "There's a small safe underneath the nightstand. Combination's 14-28-36. Some money in it. Just take out whatever and order something."

"I'd rather cook something."

"Then could you get some groceries?"

"If you come with me."

Silence. For a moment. His fingers were still rubbing against mine, pressing down on them. Like he was afraid I'd disappear somehow if he didn't hold me down. I sucked on my lip a little, waiting for his response. Still, the boy didn't open his eyes—Riku, _look at me._ But he said, "I'll just wait here."

And I figured, with the way he had said it, there was no point in me trying to force him. So I kissed him on the cheek, told him I'd use my own money—much to his displeasure—and said I'd be back as soon as I could. So we could have a homemade brunch, just the two of us. So we could talk about whatever, anything, to get his mind off of things. So we could jump start our Saturday, even though it was after noon by now and we'd slept most of the day away.

He just nodded and rolled back over in bed.

So I headed for the bus stop, ready to go to the closest supermarket I knew was in this particular area. But… I changed my mind at the last minute and decided to make a pit stop elsewhere first. A firm sense of determination washed over me when I finally got there, too.

I went to the police station.

It wasn't that busy for a Saturday afternoon, but I figured so long as there was someone around then I could get what I needed to done.

It wasn't long before an officer approached me, a rather tall man with cropped blonde hair. A mustache, some stubble around his chin. He had rather hard green eyes, but his expression seemed friendly enough. I politely crossed my hands in front of me when he walked up. "Can I help you?"

Without blinking, with the determination still holding me under its grip, I replied, "I need to report a rape."

Instantly his features softened. A deep frown, concerned. His eyes looked concerned. And this sweetness entered his tone, his voice lowered a bit. "When did it happen, sweetie?"

"Not me." And when he stared at me questioningly, I took a small breath and admitted, "My boyfriend was raped by his neighbor."

"Do you know this neighbor?"

"No, but I've seen her before."

And maybe this was why Riku hadn't wanted to tell anyone, hadn't wanted to speak out at all. The kind of look he would get if he admitted the truth, the kind of look this man was giving me now. Like he didn't quite understand, like I must have been pulling his leg. Like, on some sick twisted level, this was a joke. Like I didn't know what I was talking about.

Like a woman couldn't rape a boy.

He never said it, and I never said it. But I knew that was what he was thinking, could see it in his eyes, and I resented that. Surely— He was a cop! Police were supposed to deal with these kinds of things, weren't they? Surely he wasn't so closed minded… Surely he had some sense to know that I needed help, that Riku needed help. Dear God, Riku needed help…

But he gave me a nod and motioned towards his office, motioned for me to follow him. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

And at least he listened to what I had to say. At least he heard me out. If I could do nothing else for Riku, then I would at least tell this officer everything I knew, try to get him help. Because Riku had done so much for me in all the time I'd known him, and I'd be damned if I didn't return his love and kindness tenfold. Because I wasn't going to stand for some mentally twisted, power hungry freak stealing the confidence Riku usually had. Wouldn't let her ruin the person I loved. He needed this, he needed the help.

Now if only he'd start helping himself.


	19. Get Up

**Author's Note:** First; I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I've been off my game for the past few days and this particular chapter was actually a lot harder to write than I thought it would be. But it's all good now. Please point out any errors you see, as I re-edited this on three hours of sleep. Thanks!

Second; I'm slow with it, but I'm trying to reply to reviews more often. If I don't say anything though, don't think it's 'cause I'm a horrible person that doesn't care. I love and appreciate every one of my readers, so remember that! Also, the new review reply system is apparently synced up with the new PM system. (That's what I've heard. That's right, isn't it?) So, if you have PMs disabled you probably won't get review replies. Just a heads up.

Third; in the previous chapter near the end, Riku stated to Sora that he hadn't seen his mother in four weeks. That was a typo—it's actually been two weeks and three days since where the story last left off. I fixed it to: _"An unreadable expression on his face. 'She left, Sora. I haven't seen my mother in two weeks.'…"_ I don't know why I put four, so my bad! Just wanted to clear that up for details' sake. It would have driven me insane otherwise.

And now I'll stop rambling and let you get to the part you care about. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; You've Been Down But Now It's Time To<strong>

It only happened once.

She kept popping in my head, though. Along with the burning sensation of her lips, the stink of alcohol on her breath. The dark glint in her cat-like eyes that always seemed to drill into my skin. The truly twisted, truly sadistic smile that spread her lips when she'd realized that she had me all alone. The way her teeth had undone my zipper, the way her nails had seemed to drag against my legs when she pulled my pants down.

It only happened once.

A week ago. Long enough to try and forget. Why were the details still so clear in my head? Why was it, whenever I thought about it, the whole situation took on a more sinister twist than what had really went down? Why couldn't I make the images _stop_ flitting back into my head, stop invading my every thought? It wasn't like she had pinned me down or beat me or anything. It wasn't like she had threatened me at gunpoint. It wasn't like it was an ongoing thing—I could have stopped her. Should have. Why didn't I? It was humiliating knowing that a single person could have that much control over me, one woman. Why didn't I stop her?

It only happened once.

That sort of thing… It's demeaning. It's ugly. What she did to me was ugly. Everything about her, everything on the inside, was ugly. Never again did I want someone like that touching me. Not like that. It didn't make sense…

I had the power to stop her. Why didn't I? I wasn't a helpless damsel in distress. Why? It wasn't traumatic—shouldn't have been. Why was her face burned into my brain? Why was her touch etched into my skin? Why couldn't I forget that damned smirk? Why had I kept going to her in the first place?

That was part of the problem. I knew from the beginning, from the moment I saw her. She wasn't _right_. I knew that from the beginning. I knew she liked pushing the envelope as far as possible. She'd always made suggestive comments, had always put her hands on me, had always _acted_ a certain way around me even though I told her to stop. I knew that. Every time she had pushed a little more. I knew that. And even though she was in the wrong, I was lucky she hadn't pushed harder than she did. It could have been worse, right?

Did I have a reason to feel this way? That's what I didn't get. Worse things have happened to other people. Did I really have a reason to feel so scarred about this? The whole thing was disgusting to me. Putting myself in that situation—it was disgusting to me. But did I really have a reason to feel like this?

It only happened once.

So why did I keep reliving it over and over again?

* * *

><p>Even though I was depressed, even though I wanted nothing to do with people at this point, I found myself going to Sonata on Tuesday. Determined. With a plan. Even if it was just a small step… I guess it was partly because I hadn't been at the tea shop in so long…and partly because I wanted to see Aerith's face. I wanted to hear her soothing voice, to try talking with her for a little bit. I wanted to see if she could calm me down like she used to. Whenever I had a problem, an issue, she could always give me her two cents. And if I didn't quite like it or agree with it, at least it managed to make me feel a little better.<p>

She'd be able to do that for me now, wouldn't she?

I dropped by the shop around closing time with my messenger bag on one shoulder, a duffel bag slung over the other, and a small suitcase rolling along behind me. I didn't go inside right away, just waited until the last three customers were gone before slowly heading in. Even then I didn't go too far; I waited in front of the door with my bags.

One of the other employees, a girl maybe a couple years older than me, was wiping down tables. (When had she started working here? Was she Sora's replacement?) She swept her dirty blonde hair out of her face, stared at me curiously with turquoise eyes. She frowned and eyeballed my bags before saying, "We're about to close."

I stared back rather blankly, not really liking her tone. "Where's Aerith?"

And the girl must have been thrown off by the way I referred to Aerith by first name because she shot me a deer in the headlights look for a couple of seconds before half mumbling a response and disappearing into the kitchen. A little snooty. Yeah, that seemed to fit her.

It wasn't long before the familiar curtain of brown hair topped with a pink ribbon caught my eye, wasn't long before Aerith's usual smile greeted me as the woman emerged from the kitchen. "Riku! I haven't seen you in so long; I was starting to think you forgot about me. Wait, what's wrong?"

It was kind of endearing to see how quickly she picked up on the fact that something was off. Her whole expression had morphed from bright and beaming to worry. The blonde girl was behind the bar, slipping off her apron. She bent down, picked up what looked to be her purse, before heading towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss G."

"Okay, Lyn. Good night, and be careful heading home."

"Yes ma'am." And she gave me, my bags, and Aerith one last curious stare before leaving.

Silence took over for a few minutes, a silence in which I found myself staring nervously at my feet. Then I looked back up, mumbled, "Can I stay… Can I talk to you for a bit?"

The woman eyed me carefully, glanced at my bags and suitcase. She made a gesture for me to set them aside, for me to sit down with her at one of the booths. I did, letting my bags slide to the floor beside me. Then Aerith pressed a warm hand to mine, concern lacing her tone. "What happened, Riku?"

I wanted her advice, but I couldn't really think about how to tell her right away. "I don't…have anywhere else to go."

"Are you running away?"

"No. Sort of… No, not really."

"You want to stay with me?"

"Can I?"

"Talk to me."

And that was her invitation for the truth, for my reasoning behind this. That was her wanting to find out what was really going on and why before she agreed to anything. It wouldn't be fair for me to ask to stay with her and not let her know.

So I told her the story. Not all of it… Nothing about the Dragon. I just told her about Mom. How she hadn't been home in a couple of weeks that actually felt like months to me. How I'd gone to the police to report her missing. I just told her how I wasn't able to completely focus on the things that mattered, like Sora—"I didn't know you two dated!"—and school and friends and my photography. I told her how I felt tired and frustrated all of the time, how most days I just wanted to lie in bed all day long and sleep until everything passed away—but I had to keep going, had to keep forcing myself to function on some level, because otherwise I'd be stuck in the dump that was Rhine Wood all my life.

I told her how I was worrying about things a sixteen year old shouldn't have to worry about. Like how I was going to pay the rent that was due in the middle of each month. I didn't have a job to get money like that. Yeah, I had my own stash saved up, enough for maybe three months of rent—but I wasn't about to use it for this. That money was supposed to be for me, for college. I didn't know _which_ college, but a college so long as it was away from home. Would it make sense for me to work a job after school? I'd need it, but would I be up to it? Next year, would I have the time? My grades were good, but universities looked at more than just grades. They looked for extracurricular activities, which I lacked. Shouldn't have waited so long to realize it, but… I wouldn't have the time.

I told her how I didn't feel comfortable in my own home. The apartment was like a prison that I was stuck with. I couldn't just leave it; I couldn't just abandon it, as much as I hated it. I told her how it drove me insane. Every time I heard a slight sound, every time I heard a voice pass by the door at night, I thought it was Mom. Maybe she was coming back. Maybe she wasn't.

What happened to me when, eventually, the police stopped searching? They wouldn't tolerate me living by myself, would they? I'd be eighteen in less than two years, but until then… Would they put me in a shelter? Run me through a foster program? Not that it was always bad, but I didn't want that. Would they try to get in contact with that bastard who was supposed to be my father? He was my only other living relative—would they try to make him take custody of me because of that? Would he want me after a decade of not caring, of raising another family and maybe more?

I told her how I shouldn't have to worry about any of this. Half of these things shouldn't have to be concerns, shouldn't have to come to mind. I told her how it was my mother's fault. Neither of my parents had any damn _right_ to a child. How had I managed so long? How had I managed so long without breaking before, without feeling as trapped as I did now? Before there had always been a hope, a small one, that I'd do better for myself on my own. I wouldn't have to deal with the crap anymore; I could just make my own path. But I didn't feel like that anymore. I didn't believe that anymore, even though I wanted to. It was like I was stuck.

I hadn't been able to speak so freely about any of it until now. Why now, I wasn't sure, but the words didn't stop. In spite of the frantic feeling I had inside, my tone was calm. I was much calmer than I had been in days, so it was easier than I thought it would be to tell Aerith all of this.

The woman wasn't taking it so calmly, though, was shaking her head repeatedly placing a hand to her heart. Her other hand was still on mine, gripping it tighter. "Oh, Riku…"

"I know."

"You could have come to me sooner. You've been by yourself all this time? Why didn't you come to me sooner? You know I always say yes to you. You're like a son to me."

That was why I'd come in the first place…though I didn't tell her that. I was flattered by the comment, but right then it made me uncomfortable because I kept thinking of Mom. It hurt. "I actually didn't want to ask you at first…"

"Why?"

"I don't know." I really didn't.

"You stay with me as long as you like." She was shaking her head in indignation, but I knew it wasn't because of me. I knew the way she was pursing her lips right now wasn't because of me, but because of the situation I was in. "Why in the world… What kind of mother abandons her son like that?"

Like I hadn't asked myself that a million times… "My mother."

"She can't be that cold, Riku. Surely… Maybe she's hurt, or just can't find a way to contact you."

"If she was going to contact me, she would have done so by now. If she was hurt, I would have heard about it in the news by now. If she gave a damn, she would have come back by now. Simple truth of it is, since she doesn't want to be found, she won't be found."

"You can't believe that."

The sad thing about it was that I did. I found myself tearing my hand away from Aerith's, recoiling into myself and looking through the window beside us. To the streets and sidewalk lined with lampposts that gave off a dull glow in the night air. I frowned, sighed, and simply stated, "I know my own mother. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be."

I couldn't see her face right then, but I could feel the frown she was shooting my way. Her eyes were probably narrowed too, were probably scrutinizing me closely. There was a long moment of silence before a tiny breath slipped from her rosy lips. "Riku. Have you tried talking to a counselor at your school?"

I glanced back at her curiously. "What?"

"A counselor. Or a teacher. Someone?"

_Not happening_. "I don't need one."

"It would help. It always helps."

"Not always."

"It helps, Riku." There was something hard in her voice now, but still filled with concern. Like she was trying to get something through to me that I wasn't picking up on—or didn't want to pick up on. Before I realized it the woman was reaching across the table to grip my face in her hands, staring into me with a pleading expression. "Please. Just try talking to someone at school. If not at school, then someone else. Maybe that police officer you filed the report with. Even if you don't say much, even if it's just for a couple of minutes."

"Sure."

"_Promise_ me, Riku. You'll get help."

"I came to you for that."

"More help. Professional help."

"Okay!" She jumped when I yelled, when I pulled away again. Pulled back herself. Gave me this _look_ that could only be described as pity. And this was why I had been on the fence about telling her in the beginning, because I didn't want the pity. I wanted to tell what was on my mind to someone, but I didn't what their damn pity… It wasn't like she could change how I was feeling. She could lend the ear like she always had, but in reality there was nothing she or anyone else could really do to change it.

But I kept all of this to myself, sighed, and calmly reassured her. "Okay."

I'd take her advice.

But not right away.

* * *

><p>Aerith's place reminded me very much of Sonata. Cozy. Comfortable. Welcoming. Yet…very pink.<p>

Very.

Very.

Pink.

I mean, it wasn't Pepto-Bismol pink or anything, but a dulled down shade of it. Just everywhere. I'd made sure to point this out to Aerith the moment I walked in behind her with my bags, but she merely laughed it off and said I'd better get used to it. At least the guest room she gave to me was more crimson than pink.

She laid out her schedule right from the beginning. She was usually up and out of the house by eight, so she could do some prepping in Sonata before opening the shop. Since I usually caught the bus around the same time she'd drive me.

"It'd have to be a little earlier though, since your school's further away."

To which I replied, "You really don't have to—"

"Why won't you accept help from people who care about you, Riku?" And I just couldn't say anything to that, hadn't known _what_ to say to that. Then she had given a small sigh and smiled. "I'll drive you to school, so make sure you're up and ready by seven-thirty. I'll even cook you breakfast. How's that sound?"

And that was the end of that.

After school I could always catch a city bus to Sonata if I felt up for it, or wherever else I usually hung around after school. Though Aerith thought it would be best if I dropped by my apartment first and packed up whatever was left, regardless of whether or not it was mine. It didn't make sense to leave all of it there when the landlord would have it tossed out in the next few weeks. (I wasn't paying that bill. The rent wasn't supposed to be my damn responsibility, and I definitely wasn't asking Aerith to help me out with it.) So I'd slowly move my things out before the eviction notice came. At least that way they wouldn't have anything to throw out on the street.

The thing was, I didn't like _being_ in the apartment anymore, didn't like being anywhere near the complex at all. Especially in the morning, when I saw that blonde's damn face every day as she headed for work. She never looked directly at me, but I could always spot that pleased smirk-like grin on her face whenever she went on her way. Like she had recalled a funny joke after catching sight of me from the corner of her eye.

She made me sick.

And she scared me.

I usually don't admit that kind of thing easily, but I hated her less than I was scared of her. I didn't want to be alone with that woman for more than two seconds, didn't even want to think about it after that day. It was sickening to think that there had been a time where I had hung out around her so freely, where I had silently just let her flirt with me as she pleased. It was _disturbing_ to think that I had once thought her shameless flirting was harmless, that she wouldn't act on it. That I should just let it fly because she was older and I was much younger, and I wasn't interested in her anyway. That had been foolish on my part.

Larxene scared me.

So one could imagine the lazy chill that ran through my body when I came back to my apartment that Wednesday with several folded up boxes in hand, only to find the woman waiting for me outside the door. She had some yellow slip of paper folded in her hand, her arms crossed, had a playful smile on her face just as always when I finally managed to walk up to her. She side-stepped her way in front of the door the moment I pulled out my keys and shifted the boxes underneath one arm.

"Move."

"You never were a polite one. I'm starting to think Mommy didn't teach you any manners." She paused for a moment, smiled in an amused way. Thoughtful. Then she added, "Speaking of which, where is Mommy, hm? She usually trudges her way back home around the same time of night I do."

"Move."

"Make me."

"I'll cut you if you don't get out of my way, you bitch."

"With what, your keys? Jeez, nobody likes a potty mouth," she all but purred, enjoying this for some sick reason. What was her problem? She took the slip of paper from under her arm, held it out to me between her fingers. "Oh, this is yours too."

I hesitated before reaching out to grab it, glanced at it. Scowled at it because I'd been expecting this for some time now. Only the bolded letters of the word "eviction" stood out. It wasn't necessarily a "Get out now" notice, but more of a "Pay the money you owed last week soon" notice. Either way. It had only been a matter of time.

Larxene felt the need to point it out. "It's a 'pay up soon or we're kicking you out' reminder. You got three days to cough up the money, and after that you can expect court orders. It was taped to your door—"

I crumpled the note and shoved it in my pocket, frowning. "Don't touch other people's mail."

"I was just checking up on you and I happened to notice it. Excuse me for caring."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"I _know_ you can't possibly plan on paying up yourself. You don't have the money to keep up with rent, do you?"

"Plenty."

"But for how long? And what about groceries? And you've got senior year coming up. You think twelfth grade's cheap? Prom, college application fees, SATs and ACTs. You want a car? You think it's gonna fill itself up on gas? Not to mention you have to pay for college soon. You can't possibly handle all of that."

"You don't know what I can handle," I snapped, glaring daggers at the blonde now. If only looks could kill. I didn't _want_ her here; I just wanted to get inside my apartment and out of her sight. Out of her presence. I didn't want her to touch me let alone look at me the way she was now.

The woman's grin broadened as she crossed her arms. Pressed herself more firmly against the door. "Financially."

"Get out of my way."

"You don't want to earn a little extra cash? I could use a few more pictures—"

"Not interested. _Move._"

"Make me."

It was the way she said it that made it feel like a slap in the face. The look she was giving me now… _I challenge you to stand up to me, I dare you._ That's what it said. A smug look, like she had me squashed right under her finger. In a way she did—and I hated it.

She scared me.

In spite of this, I looked the woman dead in the eye and whispered, "I hate you."

"Ooh, that hurts my feelings." A harsh laugh left her twisted lips, and she stayed like that for a moment longer before she pushed herself up—I backed away before she could get too close, looked anywhere but at her—and headed for the stairs. And as she left she gave a sardonic call of, "You baby."

_Just go away. Just go the hell away, you sicken me…_

Why was she always _there_? Why couldn't I forget?

"Oh. Yeah, your boyfriend dropped by."

I couldn't wrap my head around her sudden words for a moment, could only stare back up at the back of the woman's head with wide eyes. "W…what?"

She turned to face me again, flashed a smirk. Cocked her head to one side. "Yesterday. Some red head and your little boyfriend."

"Girlfriend." That was my immediate response. Only seconds later did I realize that she was talking about Sora and Kairi—they had came over yesterday? They had asked about me, asked Larxene of all people?—but it was the "boyfriend" comment that bothered me now.

"If you're into that kind of kink—"

"She's a girl."

"Ah, so he's a tranny."

For a second—just a split second—something dark and monstrous welled up in me, something that was telling me to pounce on her right then and beat her. But it passed. Exhaustion washed over me. Instead I sighed and walked up to my door, which just caused the woman to scoff at me.

"Don't get mad 'cause I'm right. He can play dress up all he wants, that's not gonna take the dick away."

There was no point in arguing with her anymore, in talking with her anymore. She wasn't the kind of person who'd listen or understand, and there was no point in fighting that. So I just shoved my keys in the lock and opened the door, ready to throw up at how _angry_ she was making me. I rushed inside because I couldn't take it anymore. I just said one thing.

"Go fuck yourself."

Then I slammed the door on the woman's cold laughter.

* * *

><p>The next two days were spent packing and leaving them stacked up in boxes. Aerith had this storage area she used for some of her tea shop supplies, for her personal items and more, so she didn't mind letting me put the things I didn't need in there. So my after school time was spent just packing then hanging around her house for the rest of the night afterwards. It kept me busy, let me take my mind off of things for a short moment.<p>

But not really.

Being in the apartment kept reminding me of _her _just below on the first floor, probably fooling around with her fiancé or whoever else. And if I wasn't thinking about that, then I was thinking about how it felt wrong to throw out some of my mother's things. It was like I was clearing out everything that made Mom the person she was—her books, her clothes, the notebooks she used to keep when she went through her writing phase. Her feminine products, her trinkets and keepsakes and occasional stuffed animal. Her pictures, most taken by me. Some of me, when I was younger. When she'd had her head on straight. The picture of my father… I threw that one out.

Then there were the big things that Aerith had told me to leave, had said she'd help me with next week, when she had time off of work. Like the television. Microwave. We'd have to call someone for the fridge, the stove. (Was I allowed to move the stove? As far as I knew it hadn't been here when my mother and father moved in.)

As busy as I tried to stay during those two days, I really couldn't stop thinking about anything. I was grateful for Aerith's help, but I still felt the same as I had before…

That was why I had planned to keep my visit to the apartment on Friday short. I'd gone in, thrown some more of my own things in a bag, then gathered some of the dirty clothes I had left behind. Threw them in a basket, went out to the laundry room in another building. The sky was already tinged a deep blackish purple by the time I had them all cleaned and dried. And as I walked slowly back to the apartment with my basket of clothes in hand, I kind of lost myself in the chorus of crickets. Almost like a lullaby. I pushed all thought from my mind, determined to just not think for the rest of the night.

I hadn't expected to see Sora waiting outside my door.

I had stopped the moment I noticed her, dressed up (she was dressed up more often) which left me just yards away from where she sat. I'd even noticed the powder blue duffel bag she had settled beside her, had noticed the blank expression she was shooting at me. More like shock. And I couldn't really move, so I just stared back with the same look.

Before I knew it Sora was dropping everything—literally—and throwing her arms around me. My clothes fell to the ground as she hugged me with this surprising intensity, as she shook against me with pain in her heart.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She was whispering now, gripping me so tightly. It hurt… Not her grip, but hearing that much pain in her voice. It hurt thinking I caused it… "Why didn't you tell me what was wrong, Riku? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Sora…"

She closed her eyes, pressed her face to my chest. "Please don't… Don't hold it in. For your sake and mine, please talk to me."

Without thinking I wrapped my arms around her, hugged her back. Took in her scent, her warmth, the careful dip of her waist beneath my hands. So warm. My God, I hadn't realized how much I'd missed the girl until now, hadn't felt this good until now. Why hadn't I called her the other day after I'd learned she and Kairi came to see me? Why hadn't I talked to her before now? It must have driven her crazy…

I had to hold back a sigh, had to bite the bottom of my lip in a very Sora-like fashion before quietly saying, "Let's go inside."

We went inside after gathering our things. I flipped the lights on—I'd turned them off when I had left with my clothes—stepped forward. The brunette gave a low whistle as she closed the door behind her. "It looks empty."

"I'm packing things up." Avoided her gaze as I led the girl to my room. "I'm staying with Aerith…"

"Why?"

"My mom's not around," I muttered, growing more exhausted with each step.

I could feel Sora's curious stare boring into my back. "What do you mean not around?"

No words came to me for a long time. I didn't say anything until we were both in my room, until she was settled on my bed. I dumped my clothes on the floor, thinking on what to say. How to say it. Should I say it? If anything, Sora should have been the first person I turned to, but… I hadn't wanted her to worry. I still didn't. She had her own problems, her own issues, and worrying about me at the same time…

I kept a neutral expression on my face, started folding my clothes. "She left, Sora. I haven't seen my mother in two weeks."

A pause. "What happened?"

And I told her everything after that point. I told her everything because I couldn't keep it in anymore. I told her everything I had told Aerith, and more, because she was Sora. Because, if anything, I trusted Sora more than I trusted anyone else in my life. Because I should have told her from the start, that night on the phone when she had asked me if everything was okay. I told her that nothing was okay, that my mom was a deadbeat and that I was an idiot for still wanting her back. I told her about Larxene—though I left the Devil woman's name out of the explanation, because there was no need for it. I poured out my heart, keeping a straight face and unconcerned tone the entire time.

She was quiet for so long, just staring at me in shock. Was trying to hide the disgust she felt—it hurt seeing that—but I knew it wasn't directed at me. Still. They say the pain lessens when you speak what's on your mind, when you let it all out. It's supposed to make you feel better, if only a little. But that was a lie, because I was slowly sinking into blue again. Worse, to black.

Sora shook her head at me after a long moment's silence. "You have to tell someone. The police."

I whipped my head up and snapped, "No."

"Riku—"

"_No._ No, Sora."

"You have to!"

I fought the urge to say that I didn't _have_ to do anything, that I didn't _want_ to do anything to make the situation worse than it already was. What was with this? First Aerith, now her? They both wanted me to tell someone, to get help, but did they really think something like that was easy? After the situation I put myself in, would it really be that easy? Couldn't she see that it wasn't, that it was humiliating?

"And then what? Like they'll have any evidence to pin her with."

"They'll have your word!"

"And that's all they'll have." Because I had nothing to prove what happened that night, no hard evidence. No physical proof. Larxene had even said it herself… "Even with that, it might not be enough. She'll probably walk. Just my word? And not even that much."

I gave up the task of folding clothes altogether, growing more frustrated by the minute. That was all I ever felt nowadays. Frustration or self-pity. Everything just sucked. I glowered at the brunette, knocking my basket over, not caring that it made a mess of the floor. Not caring that I was probably scaring her.

"Because I'm not talking."

"Riku—"

"They still haven't found anything on my mother, Sora. Not a damn thing. Yeah, if they do find her she'll probably be in trouble for leaving, but in the meantime what? They'll probably throw me in a shelter until they can get a hold of her. And if not that, then some foster care. You expect me to trust them with this? You really expect me to tell them a damn thing when it can only make things worse? And how am I supposed to let them handle _that woman,_ huh? How can you expect me to just tell them about what she fucking did to me and expect it to all go away, huh? It's my own fucking fault in the first place, going over there when I knew she was trouble. You think they'll just put all the blame on her and make it go away?"

She was on her feet with me at this point. "I'm not saying they'll take the pain away, Riku. I just want you to talk. But you won't. That's what she wants. She wants you to keep quiet and she expects you to because she thinks she can get away with it."

"She already has."

"Listen to me. Riku."

I looked away.

"_Listen to me._"

And looked back. Didn't like the tone of voice she was using. Frowned. "I'm listening."

"Please… You need to tell someone. Someone who can help you."

"No."

"Why are you doing this?"

"The answer's no."

"You need to _speak out._"

"Why?"

"Because you have a voice!" She pounded her fist against her other palm, fighting to keep her tone as level as possible. I had to say, it was…actually kind of nice seeing her get so worked up. But. She got closer to me as she spoke. "Because that's what you taught me. Because it'll help. Because you're stronger than that, I know you are. You're strong and you need to open your mouth, Ri—"

_Don't talk anymore._

I couldn't explain it. Something rose up in me, took over. Made me crush my lips to hers, made me slip my eyes closed as I leaned in. And as we pulled away that something just kept growing, turned into a need. I couldn't explain it. I just wanted her to stop talking right now. I just wanted to stop thinking right now, stop thinking about _this._ I tilted the brunette's head up, looked into those pools of blue. "I want to forget, Sora. That's all I wanna do. I love you, but you're making it hard."

Tears. Didn't like them, but they welled up in her eyes all the same. She reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around mine, her voice a whisper. "I want to get you help."

"Just help me forget."

And that 'something' that had taken over made me push her onto the bed, made me climb on top of her and start pressing hungry kisses and nips on her skin. Made me try to regain some control of the situation—because I'd lost control of everything else. Just now, I wanted to focus on this. Why, I didn't know, but it felt good. Felt right.

"Wai… Riku, wait."

And I paused long enough to pull back, to give Sora a desperate, "Please." I didn't want to force her…but I wanted this. Needed this.

She seemed to understand, even though tears were falling freely from her eyes. And it wasn't until she put her hands on my cheeks, until she leaned up to kiss me that I realized I was crying too. "Okay."

She let me have my way.

* * *

><p>Of course Sora ended up staying the night after…that. She had planned it from the beginning, it seemed, since she'd packed a bag. Last night was supposed to be like some sort of intervention. But it hadn't really fixed anything. I knew that. Sex never fixed anything…<p>

I'd woken up a little after Sora, woke up to see her rummaging around for something in her overnight bag. And we talked a little bit when she noticed I was watching her. Offered to cook something to eat for breakfast—lunch? Technically it could count as brunch. She headed out not long after to grab some groceries.

She was gone for a while, though. I tried not to think too much about it.

I forced myself out of bed and into the bathroom instead, took a shower. Got dressed. Straightened up some more of my things. I had checked my phone a little later to see a few missed calls from Aerith, a couple worried texts. (She was such a mother hen; it was kind of amusing…) I called her at work, told her I was fine. That I'd probably be at the apartment most of the day, that she shouldn't worry, and she seemed fine with that.

Sora came back a while afterwards—maybe close to an hour later—with a couple Wal-Mart bags. What had she been doing? But she had the groceries in hand, had this strange look on her face. Like she was thinking too hard about something she didn't want me to know. What in the world…?

_Don't think too much about it. She's probably still worried about last night…_

Ten minutes later she was making some sort of egg dish—a half scrambled…omelet thing with bacon and onions—and hash browns that came in a bag. And I just took a seat at the table, watching her cook the entire time. Pleased. No, amused, because…

_Imagine this years from now,_ I thought to myself. Could I see us like this, years from now? Just living together, waking up together, eating together, sleeping together? I liked the thought of it. And it seemed so natural, in spite of everything else.

I couldn't help but chuckle, which just made Sora eye me curiously from the stove. "What?"

"You're like a little housewife."

"Why thank you," she beamed.

"Nothing about this makes any sense, you know."

"What doesn't?"

"You cooking me breakfast. Lunch, whichever… Staying over the night." She smiled amusedly as she set a plate of food in front of me, as she sat down across from me. I shook my head, picking at the food. "We're supposed to be taking a break."

There was a thoughtful look on her round face. Then she said, "Well, I consider the break officially over."

I felt a strange flutter in my heart at those words. Took a small bite to hide my excitement. "Oh yeah?"

"I mean, I really don't see the point in it anymore, even though it barely started. I want to be here for you."

"You don't need to do all of this, Sora."

"It's not fair for me to be happy when you're not."

"That's some weird logic."

"Think of it this way. Would you be able to be happy knowing I was miserable?"

"No." That was a no-brainer. And it clicked a little then, because I got what she meant. I knew what she was talking about, had been in that situation before…

She took a bite of egg, grinned at me. "Then it's not weird logic at all. Makes complete and total sense."

"Yeah, I guess." I really did love her. I wasn't sure if I showed her that enough. I needed to, after all of this. After making her worry so much, her and Kairi and Naminé. Somehow I'd have to make it up to her.

Then something crossed my mind, made me widen my eyes and slam my fork down onto my plate. "Crap… I haven't gotten ready for Monday."

A curious arch of the brow. "Monday?"

"The dance." All this time, I'd almost forgotten it was just two days away. I mean, I had my tux and shoes in my closet, but other than that… What else did I need to get ready? I normally didn't go to dances like this, but for Sora's sake it seemed necessary.

She stared at me incredulously, quiet for a moment. "You…you still want to go?"

"I want to at least see you in the dress, Sora."

"Yeah, but…" The brunette took an uneasy bite of her hash browns, still letting the information soak. Why did she look so disturbed by it? "It seems so soon."

"It's fine. It'll help take my mind off things for a bit."

She watched me carefully as I stopped talking, as I took slow steady bites of food instead. Like she didn't quite believe what I was saying—I did want to go. I mean…I had promised her already, had bought the dress. It would be cruel not to go just because I couldn't pull my shit together.

Sora set her fork down, frowned. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

I frowned back. "Not really."

"I really think you should tell someone about it, Riku."

"I already told you last night, that's not happening. And nothing's going to change my mind."

"Not even if someone else already knew?"

What? Wait… I didn't like where this conversation was going. I stopped eating, took in that strange look that was crossing her face again. "Other than you?"

Sora gave me a sheepish look. "I… I kind of told someone, Riku."

"What?"

"When I was getting groceries. I went to the police and reported what you told me last night."

A strange jolt shot through my heart. "You did. _What?_"

"They needed to know, Riku."

She looked like she regretted it on some level, but that didn't console me in the slightest. No. The first thing I felt… I wasn't sure what it was, to be honest, but it was replaced with anger. Something close to rage. It scared me… And I was jumping up from the table, pacing through the kitchen as I tried to understand what in the fucking _hell_ could have possessed Sora to do something like this.

"The only reason I told you in the first place was because I trust you!" I threw my arms up, shook my head at the girl. What had she been thinking? Hadn't we talked about this last night? Hadn't I _told_ her about this last night? "I didn't need you to do anything!"

That just made her angry, and she opened her mouth to say something. But I turned away from her at that moment, started walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. She wouldn't let it go, though, followed after me and spoke.

"Well, you know what? You don't know what you need right now. You've been locking yourself away from the world and refusing to say a damn thing when you know you should. Don't you realize the longer you keep this quiet the more of a chance that woman has to do something like this again? Do you want her to find some other unsuspecting boy, Riku?"

"Maybe he'll deserve it," I snapped, stopping just outside my door when I felt Sora's hand on my arm. I turned to face her, took in the shocked look in her eyes.

"How can you say that?"

"Because I didn't deserve it!" I screamed, yanking my arm free and pounding a fist against my chest. Getting in the brunette's face, which just caused her expression to harden. "Because I don't deserve half the shit I have to go through, Sora! I've done some fucked up stuff in my life, but that doesn't make it okay."

And when she didn't say anything I quieted down, calmed myself down. Shook my head once more. "I'm not trying to whine, Sora, but I honestly believe that. I believe that all of this is bullshit. My father deciding I wasn't worth calling his son, Mom walking out on me, Larxene putting her hands on me when I could have stopped her—"

"She forced you."

"It doesn't matter. The point is I've never been happy in my life. The only moments that come close are the ones when I'm with you."

"Are you saying I'm not enough?" And the way she said it…There was a hint of hurt in her tone, like she had taken offense.

That wasn't what I meant, though. I didn't want her to feel that way. Why the hell wasn't she getting this? "I'm saying that as much as you care, you can't fix everything."

"I'm not trying to," she said indignantly, crossing her arms. "I just want to help you through it. That's what partners _do_. That's what you've done for me, and I'm not about to sit here and let you tell me that I can't do anything. Because THAT is a load of bullshit."

"Get out."

"No."

"I want to be alone right now."

"I'm not leaving."

"Leave, Sora."

"No."

"Go! Before…"

"Before what?"

"Before I hit you!" I had to catch myself before I actually did it, had to pull back for just a moment before placing my hands on the teen's shoulders and lowering my voice. "Before I hurt you, Sora… Please. Just leave."

She stayed calm. "No."

She was so. God. Damn. Stubborn. I didn't understand it. Any other time I would have appreciated that, I would have adored that about her; but right now it pissed me off. Now, I couldn't stand, and yet… She was just looking out for me. She was just doing what I would have done for her had the roles been reversed. It made sense when I looked at it like that, but still… Still…

I sank against the wall, hugged my knees to my chest and buried my head in my arms. Kept my face out of view because I didn't want her to see me cry again. Not now… I wasn't as strong as she gave me credit for, I really wasn't… What did she see? What was she seeing that I wasn't?

It wasn't long before I felt her sit down beside me, wrap her arms around me and pull me into her. And I just let her, still silently crying. Her voice was soft. "I'm not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not. I'm gonna be right here. If I leave… I don't want a repeat of what I did to you, Riku. We don't need that. I'm staying right here."

I knew what she was getting at. She didn't want the same misunderstanding that had driven a wedge between us the first time. I got that, I really did. But… It was like our positions had flipped. She was the tough one now. She was the one building me up. She was the one pushing to keep me in one piece. Had this really been the same Sora that used to keep the bad things to herself, who used to avoid her problems? Had I really helped her change so much, into the strong-willed person she was now?

"Sora…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Monday. April twenty-third.<p>

Today was the day. All day, people at school wouldn't shut up about it. The people that were going, anyway. It was all happening tonight at seven-thirty, at The Marriot Hotel by the beach, on the tenth floor. (Yeah. Our school was bad enough to reserve an entire floor.)

Ring Dance.

Needless to say, I was nervous about the whole thing from the moment I'd woken up. I'd told Aerith about it the day before, and she made sure to have off of work for the day. Made sure that I would be ready when the time came. (I swear, the woman lit up at the mention of the word "dance," like she was going to it herself.)

She had pressed and set out my suit by the time I got home—it was weird calling her place my home—from school that day. Had even gone out and bought me a deep blue rose carnation. ("A _blue_ rose, Riku. How awesome is that? You think it'll go with Sora's suit?" To which I just gave a nod, because I didn't know how to tell her that Sora wasn't going in a suit. But she'd find out soon enough…)

The pink-clad woman offered to drive me to the hotel, but I directed her to Sora's house first. The brunette had sent me texts all day, telling me what the game plan was going to be before the actual dance. I'd meet her at her place around five, we'd take pictures. We'd eat out at Olive Garden, on her mother's bill. Hang around a bit. Then Kairi and Naminé would meet us there to pick us up, and Kairi's dad would drop us off at the hotel. Then it was dance, dance, dance.

Sounded like a plan to me. I braced myself.

I still wasn't prepared for the shock when we made it to the Sabota residence.

Roxas' and Sora's mother and grandmother greeted us when we arrived, of course. And another goofy, dark haired couple that I soon realized was Xion's parents when I spotted the girl coming down the stairs with Roxas. And the two of them cooed and teased the two about how cute a couple they made, how great they looked together. Xion in her simple black gown—it looked beautiful on her—and Rox in his traditional suit.

Obviously they weren't aware of the breakup, but Rox and Xion took it silently and smiled all the same.

But Sora. All eyes were on her when she came down. And I knew each person in the room had a different reason for staring, had a different reaction.

With Aerith it was verbal shock—not the bad belittling kind, but the honestly shocked kind. "Oh my— _Sora?_ Oh my… You look… It's so beautiful, but is that really you Sora?"

With her grandmother, it was silence. There was no reading her expression, but there was something very deep there in her sapphire eyes. Something just a little warm.

With Xion's parents it was awed silence. Perhaps they didn't know what to say. Perhaps they weren't expecting it. And if they were, then they hadn't been prepared enough.

With Roxas it was…something proud. Almost. Something brotherly. And Xion was watching the blonde with a knowing smile, was leaning into him and whispering, "You were right."

With Mrs. Sabota it was tears. Tears of joy and maybe…maybe sadness, but mostly joy. And she was returning the smile Sora was shooting her direction as she walked down the stairs, was holding her arms out to pull the brunette into a tight hug. She whispered something to Sora that I couldn't hear, but it made the girl's face light up like I'd never seen it light up before.

The dress fit her perfectly. I had a feeling it would, but it was still a shock to me as I examined her curves. The deep blue and hint of fuchsia matched her so well. The skirt came down just above her knees. And she looked so comfortable in those silver heels, I couldn't help but grin. Her hair was curly this time, but a little different than what she usually had. She had a very retro-looking flapper bob, had a sapphire hair pin in her hair.

I wanted to grab her and kiss her when she finally looked to me.

"You look amazing." I really didn't know what else to say other than that. There was _nothing else_ to say other than that. I mean… _God, look at her._

A heavy blush dusted her cheeks, but even then she was absolutely glowing. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Shut up and kiss him already!" Xion shouted from behind us, which just caused everyone else to laugh. Like we weren't already on the spot. But it was fine.

Pictures were taken. Very much against my will, but it was for the occaision… The couples were put together. Me and Sora. Roxas and Xion. Then the boys. Then the girls. Then the four of us together. Mrs. Sabota, her mother, Xion's mother, and Aerith took picture after picture after picture. After picture. After. Picture.

I think it was a mom thing. I really didn't understand it.

We weren't long at the house. The parents wished us a good night, a good time, before the four of us were loaded into Mrs. Sabota's car. She was laughing and easy going and in a good mood the entire drive to the restaurant. Talking with Roxas and Sora, Xion and me. Joking yet seriously warning us about any alcohol or drugs that may or may not be present. Warning us to be careful but to have fun. Then it was the four of us inside the Olive Garden, alone. And even though I had thought it would be kind of awkward, it proved to be a very enjoyable dinner.

Roxas and Sora seemed to be in equally good moods. Seemed to talk to each other more than I had ever seen them talk before. They were actually _getting along_. Something about that just warmed me.

Kairi and Naminé were waiting outside by the time we finished eating, finishing up ice cream cones of their own. There was the usual chatter and greetings as they looked to Roxas and Xion. A little awkwardness when they looked to me. ("You can tell us about it when you're ready," Naminé had whispered when she gave me a hug, and all I could do was simply squeeze her back and give her a reassuring nod.)

The red head and blonde freaked out when they turned their sights on Sora, though. Naminé especially, since it was the first time she was seeing the brunette dressed up. "Oh my God, SORA! You look beautiful! Oh my God, turn around!"

I couldn't help but laugh at the way Sora was beaming and chuckling at the two. "Thank you! You two look great too."

"Honey, you need to dress like this all the time. You're gorgeous." Kairi ran fingers through Sora's curls, getting this spark in her eyes. "We should take you shopping one day."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "What's with you two and shopping?"

To which Xion lightly smacked him on the back of the head and replied, "Shopping is an art form that a mere male would not understand."

And we laughed at that, continued to chat and joke until Kairi's dad pulled up to the curb. Then we filed into the car and drove off, ready for the main event.

It was weird. When I look back on this night… It was weird knowing that not once had I thought about Mom or Larxene or any of that. At least, not against my will. It wasn't like those thoughts were invading my head now. It was like it didn't matter, like it was shut out for the time being so I could enjoy myself.

And I did. I was.

The hotel wasn't anything amazingly high class, but they had decorated our floor enough to look pretty damn good. By the time we got there our classmates were already crowding around the tables of food and snacks and drinks, were already throwing themselves on the dance floor and pulling dirty dances that they _knew_ they weren't supposed to be doing but what teacher was really going to step in and make them stop?

I normally didn't dance. Not that I didn't know how, I just didn't do it. But tonight I just lost it. We all lost it within that sweating crowd. Pressed close, bumping, grinding, rocking about to whatever song the DJ played. Even if we didn't know it or, hell, liked it. They had lights flying in every which way from above, had the music pumped up to the point of deafening. Hands were in the air, brushing against other bodies, feet pressed against each other. Some girls bent and dropped low, but I stuck with Sora the entire time. Enjoyed it. _God damn_, I hadn't known she could dance like that. I really hadn't.

I made sure she stuck close. Not that she wandered. Her gaze ate at mine the entire time.

Eventually a slow song came on. Which, of course, was the signal for two-thirds of the dancers to take a breather and for couples to come up and start slowly rotating as they waddled. I never did _get_ slow dances, to be honest, but I held out a hand to Sora all the same. "May I have this dance?"

She gave an amused chuckle that was infectious, gripping her hand in mine. "You may."

And that's how it went for the first few minutes. A slow, steady beat. My hands on her waist, her arms wrapped around my neck. We stared into each other for a long time, not saying anything. Enjoying the moment. But her expression changed after a while.

Sora wasn't looking too happy right then.

I frowned, furrowed my brows. "What's wrong?"

She had this look, like she was about to cry. A very pained look, and I didn't like it. Her eyes were watery. "I feel like I'm forcing you to be here…"

"You're not."

"But—"

"I want to be here, Sora." And I meant it. She knew I meant it. I could see it in her eyes, could see the light go off in her head as she let out a small sigh.

"It's not gonna be all bad, you know," she told me. Like it was life or death information. And I hung onto every word. I felt her fingers pull a little against the back of my neck. "It's not always the bad, Riku. Things'll turn around. You just gotta take the steps to make them turn around, because it won't happen on its own."

"I know."

"Do you really know?"

"I know that, with you, things always turn around. It's always the good with you."

"I'm not perfect."

"And I'm a frikkin' saint?" I laughed. "You don't have to be, Sora. You just be you."

"And you can just be you. I want the old Riku back."

"The old Riku?"

"The Riku that didn't let people step all over him…"

She regretted it the moment it slipped from her mouth. She'd picked up on the way my expression went from content to cold in a matter of seconds, and there was a frantic way about her now. "I'm sorry. I so sorry, Riku, I should have said anyth—"

I kissed her anyway. Just because. Tonight wasn't the night… I wasn't going to worry about anything. Tonight wasn't the night for that; tonight was just me and Sora. And I pulled the girl closer to me, pressed my forehead to hers as the background noise seemed to die down. The more I focused on her, the more everything else just seemed to disappear. That was alright with me.

"Just dance," I whispered, smiling.

She put her head on my chest, holding back tears. "Okay."

* * *

><p>"Bonfire!"<p>

"Hell yeah!"

"Where?"

"On the beach, dumbass, hurry up."

A good chunk of students had spread the word that a bonfire was being held on the beach. It only made sense to head there after the dance—if you could. I noticed that most students parents had come to pick them up around midnight. The lucky ones got to stay later.

Kairi, Naminé, Roxas, Sora, and I all went with the excited group down to the beachside. Took our shoes off, lifted up pants legs and dress skirts just to run across the sand and shout like morons as other students tossed chunk after chunk of wood into the fire. Someone had brought an assload of Hershey bars and graham crackers. Someone else had brought marshmallows. And we made S'mores for the hell of it, because it would be an insult to the S'more God not to do so.

Couples continued to dance in the sand, even though there was no music. People laughed and screamed, not caring if they were being too loud. A beach ball had found its way to a few of the volleyball girls, who kicked up their skirts and started passing it back and forth. Everyone was just enjoying the moment because they could. The warmth of the fire—it was a rather large son of a bitch—radiated into the air and made sure we didn't get the chills. And if you did, then you huddled close to your special somebody and talked for a while.

Sora and I were one of the few couples gathered around the fire that night. And hell, it felt amazing. Serene.

"It's burning." I said it quietly, causing Sora to stare at me carefully. Something…what was it? Something was welling up inside of me. It didn't feel bad or anything, but it wasn't entirely nice. It was weird. I shook my head, watching the flames, watching how they rose into the night air as if caught in a spell. "The whole world's burning up."

Sora watched the flames too, knit her fingers together with mine and leaned into my shoulder. After a moment she thought better of it and decided to sit in my lap instead. Leaned against me, let me wrap my arms around her chest. The others were still toasting marshmallows or dancing along the beach or soaking their feet in the waves by the shore. There were so many other people doing so many other things, and it just felt right being here with this group. It was a calm yet lively group. Comfortable. And we just watched the flames.

Her voice was just as soft. "We can make a new world. One that makes more sense."

"One that doesn't suck."

"And doesn't suck."

"And no people."

"Just you and me?"

"Just you and me."

"I like the sound of that."

* * *

><p>I'd felt a little better the day after the dance. How could I not, after that night? In spite of everything, I think I needed that night to unwind, to forget. It was definitely worth it. And I figured that even though there was so much going on right now—at least, that's how it felt—I could suspend my feelings about the events in my life long enough to bask in the success of Ring Dance along with my peers. It was the main thing the junior girls at school gushed about all day, next to how hot certain boys had looked and the cuteness (andor drama) that came with them that night. People talked about ordering pictures, about the food, about the music and post-dance activities. The bonfire, of course, had been at the top of the most talked about list.

The entire junior class, a good chunk of the seniors and sophomores, and the occasional lucky freshman, was in a general agreement that Ring Dance had been the bomb and that Prom had better exceed it or come very well damn close. If you hadn't gone to the dance or hadn't been invited by someone who did, then you'd missed out.

I was glad I went. I'd even called Sora a little later that night and told her so. We continued to talk well into early morning—like, two in the morning—until I heard her mother in the background fussing about how she still had school tomorrow and that she better get her butt in bed. I wished her an amused good night and went to bed myself after that.

That's why I figured that, that following Tuesday, I'd be fine. The entire day would be fine and, maybe, the day after that. Maybe the entire week. I just needed to suck it up and pick myself up like Sora had told me to. Like she believed I could. So I went back to my apartment after school that day, ready to finish packing what was left. Aerith had taken off of work in order to drop me off, had opted to help out, and she had noticed right away that I was still in a good mood.

And of course Larxene showed up to ruin it.

She had showed up halfway through our packing and moving things to Aerith's truck. Aerith was still in the apartment, organizing my books into a small box while I carried out another one filled with electronics. Movies, phone wires, house phones, my iPod. My camera, the one Mom had bought me… I planned on using it to take pictures of the apartment once it was completely empty.

But back to Larxene.

I was alone when I made it outside, hadn't realized the woman was there until after I made it to the first floor. She let out a loud whistle to announce her presence, causing me to turn around and face her. There was something different about her today. The same playful, subdued demeanor from before wasn't present now; there was this fierce air around her that made me come to a halt the moment she started stomping towards me. I didn't like this…

The woman was practically foaming at the mouth. "You've got a lot of nerve."

All I could do was blink in confusion, back away a bit and grip the open box tightly in my arms. "What?"

"I've got the freakin' police asking me questions about my _lifestyle_. About _you_." Her finger was in my face as she bit the last word out, her eyes narrowed. I swear she could have poked my eye out with that acid green finger nail. "What the fuck did you tell them?"

It took me a moment to understand, to realize that the only reason she was mad was because of the report Sora had made days back. I hadn't even known they were investigating anything…hadn't known that they'd take it seriously enough to investigate.

I shook my head at Larxene, turning away from her. Needed to get to the truck, needed to get inside where she couldn't follow me. "I didn't say anything."

"Liar," she spat out, grabbing my arm, squeezing it with this inhuman strength that put me even more on edge.

"I didn't say a damn thing, so let me go."

"You think you're gonna prove something? You think it's gonna change anything? Because it won't. It's not gonna change a thing, not one—"

"Get. _Off_. Of me."

"They won't _find_ anything, you hear me? They won't be able to prove anything." She was shaking me pretty roughly now, which just made me pull away from her with as much force as possible. Yet her thin fingers managed to fist my hair, and she pulled me back.

"I didn't say anything!"

"So explain to me why the cops are poking their noses in my life?"

"Go screw around with someone else."

I wasn't about to do this. Maybe any other day she would have managed to intimidate me, but I was in too good a fucking mood for her to mess with me right now. Not. Today.

So I wrenched my head free from her grip, turned to leave without giving the blonde a second thought.

"I'm talking to you!" I heard her yell, and her heels started clicking as she rushed towards me.

"Don't fucking touch me."

"Son of a bitch!"

The woman tried grabbing onto me again but latched onto my camera instead, somehow snatched it from the top of the box without meaning to. I should have taped the box closed before coming out here, should have taken my camera out of it and set it aside somewhere safe beforehand. But I hadn't… And when she realized that she was holding the device in her hand she paused for a moment. Stared at it. Then this spark entered her eye, this strange spark that I didn't like. But I didn't have a chance to stop her before she gave the slightest twitch of a smirk.

And she lifted her arm high before smashing the camera on the ground.

I just heard the crushing sound of shattering metal and plastic. I just heard that horrible sound, just saw bits of sleek black material—the buttons and the screen cracking and popping off—sprinkling the pavement as it fell. I was frozen still while hearing this, while seeing this, and I swear my heart stopped beating in that moment. She broke my camera. Everything… She broke—

_She broke my camera._

Broke wasn't quite the right word, though… Destroyed. Desecrated. Demolished.

That had been everything worth holding onto for me. That had been my heart and soul. Even though it brought back the negative thoughts of Mom, even though it brought back memories of taking Larxene's pictures, it had still held meaning. There'd been other photos, but… I had solace in those pictures. I had some sort of comfort in them, small, some sort of hope that helped me believe that it couldn't be all bad. Sora had said it wouldn't always be bad. It couldn't be all bad. Those pictures, the camera. It held some good. My camera.

She broke. My fucking. Camera.

I don't remember much after that. Literally, my mind went blank and only snippets of sensory information flashed through my head.

Like the feel of the box slipping from my hands. Like the sound of someone's body (Larxene?) crashing onto the ground.

And screaming. Crying.

Like the sound of someone (Larxene?) yelling at the top of their lungs to "Stop, stop— PLEASE STOP, MAKE HIM STOP!" And I felt sharp jolts of pain on my face, my chest, like something was striking and scratching at me. Like someone (Larxene?) was fighting back but failing at it. Skin against skin.

And more screaming.

Like something warm and wet and red (Blood?) running against my hands—fists—and someone was yanking me away…

I don't remember. Really, I don't remember anything other than that. I don't remember at all.

I do recall snapping out of it who knew how long afterward. Blue and red lights were flashing brightly, cutting into the dark of the evening air. Blinding me, causing me to squint. And I was sitting in the back of some vehicle—an ambulance—that was parked in front of the complex beside Aerith's truck. There were two ambulances actually, but I was in the first one and there was some woman pressing a moist rag to my bleeding forehead and…

What?

My head was throbbing, buzzing. People were talking loudly, way too loudly. People that lived in the complex, people who had come out of their apartments to see what the hell was going on. Cops. Not a whole lot, but they were directing the scene, keeping bystanders away. Ambulance workers. In the other car someone was holding Larxene back, was keeping her as far away from me as possible. And Marluxia stood close by, shaking his head. Glancing at me every few seconds, this unreadable expression on his face. But all I could do was stare at Larxene. She looked pissed. Fuming. She was pissed and—

What?

Her face. Holy shit, had I done that? Her eye—hell, her whole face—was deeply bruised and bleeding, a tooth was missing, dark splotches all over her usually clear skin. Her arms looked scratched up too. Her arm… I think it was broken. And as angry as she was, she had crocodile tears in her eyes and was shaking uncontrollably as one of the medics tried to treat her.

Had I really done that? I didn't remember… It was way too loud out here. It was too loud and I wasn't as worried about this whole situation as I should have been. That bothered me on some level. Why didn't I care as much as I should have? Why did I feel so numb right now?

I glanced towards the apartment, towards where Larxene had first approached me. The foot of the steps. A familiar looking cop. Officer Awning. She was speaking with a frantic Aerith at the moment. Aerith? That's right. She had driven me here, hadn't she? She looked like she was about to cry.

It was too loud…

Aerith and Officer Awning were making their ways towards me now, still talking as they walked. Watching me worriedly. Didn't like it.

They had to pass by the opposite truck, pass Larxene, to get through to me. When they walked by Larxene hopped up to her feet, fought to keep herself balanced, and started yelling. She started yelling, and that's when my apathy and numbness vanished and the hurt came flooding back. "Throw his fucking ass in jail! You hear me? You better fucking lock him up, he fucking _beat_ me. He fucking beat me senseless!"

Officer Awning, in spite of the situation, gave a slight roll of the eyes and an exasperated reply of, "Yet you still have enough sense to keep talking."

"Hey, screw you!" Larxene wasn't even paying her any mind anymore, wasn't paying anyone else any mind and was focusing right on me. She was still bleeding and off balance and obviously needed to sit still until the medics could bandage her up enough to move her to a hospital, but she was trying to move from the ambulance all the same. Was pointing a bony finger in my direction, was taking wobbly steps forward even though Marluxia was holding her back. And she just kept yelling at me. "Screw you and your little pansy ass _boy_friend and your slut of a mother."

I felt my jaw tighten. "Shut up."

"You're butt-hurt 'cause she abandoned your fucking ass, huh? The whore knew what the hell she was doing, leaving you behind. Probably deserved it. What, you beat her too? Is that it, Mr. Pretty Boy, is that it? You beat your mommy so she left? Is that why you go crying to older women? You go crying to older women or little transvestites in training and prey off them too? Can't get a real girl 'cause of your mommy issues, is that it?"

"_Shut the fuck UP you cunt faced bitch!_"

"Enough!" Officer Awning shot a poisonous glare in the blonde's direction before looking to one of the medics. "Get her out of here. Now."

They took Larxene away. They forced her back into a gurney, even though she kept stating she didn't need to be fucking strapped down like an animal, but they made her lie down anyway so that they could take her away. And before they closed the doors, I heard her say, "You're paying for this, brat."

Then they took her away.

It was getting too hard to breathe. So angry. I was shaking, I was so angry. I wanted to beat her again, wanted to remember it this time. All of it. I wanted to beat that bitch into unconsciousness.

"Look at me, Riku. Enough." Officer Awning gripped my chin in her hand, forced my cold stare in her direction. As stern as she looked, there was still something soft in her eyes. Was that compassion? Why did she care so much? Yeah, she was a cop; it was her job. But, really, why did she seem to care about me so much? What was I to her other than some rowdy teen with emotional baggage? What else did she see other than some boy close enough to the edge to flip out and beat down a grown woman?

I had to bite down on my teeth in order to keep my voice level. "She fucking bad-mouthed me and you didn't do anything about it."

"Just calm down, okay."

Calm down, she said. "Where's my camera?"

"What?"

"My camera. Where's my camera?"

Aerith was beside me now. She had gotten intimately close without me really realizing it right away, had taken over for the medic that had been holding the rag to my scratched up face. Said medic was off talking with someone else in the truck, someone behind me, giving a brief rundown of my condition. (Physically, I felt fine. A few cuts, but I was fine.) Aerith heaved a sigh, though, shook her head at my question. "Honey, it's gone."

"Where is it?"

"It's gone, Riku."

"Where the hell is my camera? Where's my fucking camera."

"Enough with the language." Officer Awning ordered softly, relinquishing her grip on my face. "Enough."

"I want my camera."

The sandy haired woman frowned and glanced at the medics chattering behind me. Cleared her throat loudly to gain their attention. "Why don't you run him down to the hospital?"

"I'm not going to the hospital."

"You need stitches."

"I don't—"

"_Stop_ arguing and let the woman do her job." And I couldn't say anything after that, because I'd never heard Aerith snap before. Not like that. I just kind of froze up at the way she had spit the words out, at the way she gripped my arm in her other hand and practically shook me. For a moment the usual composure the woman had faded away and an emotionally torn side came out. But it left just as quickly, was replaced with exhaustion. The chocolate haired woman looked back at the medics. "Is it okay if I follow behind you?"

"Yes ma'am."

And she left it at that, pulled the rag away from my face and placed it in my hand. Then she gave me a tearful kiss to the cheek and said she'd see me soon before heading for her car. I still didn't say anything, didn't move.

All I could do was glance up at Officer Awning as one of the medics pressed their hands to my shoulders in an effort to get me to sit down with them. The cop jerked her head in the direction of the street, giving me a no nonsense look. "Go. I'll meet you there."

I blinked, hardly able to get my words out. "You ar…aren't arresting me?"

"We'll talk about that in a bit."

"Wait…" I gripped the woman's sleeve before she could walk away, tugged on it hard enough for her to eye me with concern. "Wait."

"It's okay, Riku. It's okay, we'll sort it out."

"You need to know," I found myself whispering, ignoring the tears that were welling up in my eyes. They started to fall, but I didn't let the stern expression on my face falter for one second.

"Know what?"

"You need to know what kind of person she really is." She'd seen it just moments ago, seen the monster that was Larxene show its full colors as she screamed profanities and insults at me. But there was something deeper than that. That demon that kept invading my dreams, that demon that had put its hands on me and thought it would get away with it… I didn't entirely realize it right then, but I was grateful for Sora opening her mouth when she did. I was grateful for her giving me that talking to, even though I had lashed out in the beginning. Because I wasn't keeping quiet anymore.

"You need to know what she did to me."


	20. Speechless

**Sora; And I Know That It's Complicated**

"You look like a little housewife."

_Housewife, he says. Ha! All I'm missing is an apron and an apple pie on the oven._ His words warmed me, even though I wasn't doing too much.

We hadn't mentioned Friday night, hadn't mentioned the emotional outburst he'd had or the way he had pinned me onto his bed… No, when I got back to the apartment that afternoon, I simply put the groceries away and tried not to think too much about the report I had made earlier. Which was a hard feat…especially with him watching me from the table as I started cooking. I _knew_ I was an open book; Riku would be able to tell something was on my mind immediately. Plus I had taken so long getting back…

But I continued cooking, pushed that from my head, and cheerfully replied, "Why thank you."

_I should tell him… It's not right if I don't tell him._ Those thoughts came back. It was hard to keep them at bay, to worry about just now and nothing else. It was hard not to remember last night as I divided eggs and hash browns onto two plates. How could I not? The same feelings of anger and disgust and despair washed over me. Yes, despair… Why hadn't he told me about all of this sooner? Yes, he'd already told me at this point, about everything, but why not from the very start? I would have been there. I could have kept him from carrying all of this by himself.

_You have to tell him._

"Nothing about this makes any sense, you know," Riku said, snapping me abruptly out of my thoughts.

I tried to stay as calm as possible. "What doesn't?"

"You cooking me breakfast. Lunch, whichever… Staying over the night." I couldn't help but smile at how confused he sounded as he spoke. I set a plate in front of him then set the other plate across from him. Took a seat as he shook his head and poked my egg concoction with his fork. "We're supposed to be taking a break."

And I think this light went off in my head at the word "break," some sort of realization. Was that why? Was that he reason why he hadn't said anything to me sooner, because we were taking a break? Was he so worried about me focusing on my own struggles that he wanted to keep me out of his? I eyed the boy thoughtfully, quiet. Then, "Well, I consider the break officially over."

He was eating and sort of looking away from me, but I still saw the way his face lit up. And it was so cute and great to see that, you know? Because that was the happiest I'd seen him since last night. "Oh yeah?"

"I mean, I really don't see the point in it anymore, even though it barely started. I want to be here for you."

A slight frown. "You don't need to do all of this, Sora."

Why did he keep saying things like that? I paused in my eating, looked sternly at him. "It's not fair for me to be happy when you're not."

"That's some weird logic."

"Think of it this way. Would you be able to be happy knowing I was miserable?"

"No," was his immediate answer. A very strong "no" that resonated within me, made me smile, and I saw that something must have dawned on him as he said it because his milky green eyes widened a bit. He realized what I was getting at, what I was talking about. He got it.

I took another forkful of food, still grinning. "Then it's not weird logic at all. Makes complete and total sense."

"Yeah, I guess." A pause. He was lost in thought once more for a long moment. Then he slammed his fork down onto his plate and stared at me with widened eyes. "Crap… I haven't gotten ready for Monday."

"Monday?"

"The dance."

Oh.

Oh!

I'd almost forgotten after all this time. Which was just pitiful and sad, now that I thought about it. I'd been so worried about everything else… But it didn't make sense to me now, considering the situation. His mother and that woman… I stared at him, happy about his decision—the dress came to mind—but still confused. 'You…you still want to go?"

"I want to at least see you in the dress, Sora."

"Yeah, but… It seems so soon." Did he really want to go because he wanted to? Or was it because of the dress—my God, that _DRESS!_ Did he feel obligated to go because of me? I didn't want that, not with so much going on. As much as I wanted to go—and I _really, really_ wanted to go—I didn't want Riku to force himself for my sake. That wasn't right… Plus there was prom next year, so it wasn't like we were missing out on a dance opportunity forever.

He seemed to pick up on my distress. "It's fine. It'll help take my mind off things for a bit."

Huh… He was taking slow bites of his food now, falling silent. I could tell that he wasn't being completely honest with me. He didn't have to force himself… "Do you wanna talk about it?"

An instant frown. "Not really."

"I really think you should tell someone about it, Riku."

"I already told you last night, that's not happening. And nothing's going to change my mind."

"Not even if someone else already knew?"

It was then that he looked at me, really _looked at me_, and I didn't like it. Those eyes… They were usually so captivating, but right now their scrutiny made me uncomfortable to the point where I grimaced. He stopped eating, expression growing more cross with each passing second. "Other than you?"

_Tell him._

"I…I kind of told someone, Riku."

"What?"

_His tone's so cold…_ "When I was getting groceries. I went to the police and reported what you told me last night."

"You did. _What?_"

"They needed to know, Riku."

Part of me had known that he'd react like this. Even though I wasn't sure if the police would act on what I'd told them. The officer I'd spoken to had been kind enough to hear me out, to file the report, to tell me that he would inform SVU as soon as possible. But would they be able to do anything other than investigate? Would they be able to get Riku to talk?

And Riku. The look on his face scared me. For a split second—was that my Riku?—blind rage. Like he was about to attack me without thinking about it, without restraint. But he found his restraint and managed to calm himself enough so he could move away from me and the table. He threw his arms up in the air to vent instead, voice still surprisingly in control even though he was practically yelling. "The only reason I told you in the first place was because I trust you! I didn't need you to do anything!"

But didn't he see that it was _because_ he trusted me that I had to tell someone? What kind of friend, what kind of girlfriend, would I be if I kept quiet about it when it would only hurt him more? I was about to ask him all of this—but he started walking out of the kitchen, intent on ignoring my words.

And that hurt and kind of pissed me off, you know? Because I had something worth saying, and he_ was_ going to listen.

So I got up from the table and followed him down the hallway. "Well, you know what? You don't know what you need right now. You've been locking yourself away from the world and refusing to say a damn thing when you know you should. Don't you realize the longer you keep this quiet the more of a chance that woman has to do something like this again? Do you want her to find some other unsuspecting boy, Riku?"

I grabbed onto his arm to keep him from disappearing into his room, causing him to whip around with a spiteful, "Maybe he'll deserve it."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I didn't deserve it!" Our calm had long since fizzled away. The carefree way we had been talking in the kitchen moments ago was forgotten. There was so much pain in this one person, so much anger that I couldn't stand it. And the teen was ripping his arm free, was pounding a fist against his chest as he screamed in my face. "Because I don't deserve half the shit I have to go through Sora! I've done some fucked up stuff in my life, but that doesn't make it okay."

I said nothing, hoping to let him vent all he needed to so he could calm back down. So we could talk about this rationally. Emotions like these…they had a way of making rationality throw itself out the window. I knew that from firsthand experience. It was almost eerie seeing so much of myself in him right now…

He seemed to cool down a bit, lowered his voice. Shook his head. "I'm not trying to whine, Sora, but I honestly believe that. I believe that all of this is bullshit. My father deciding I wasn't worth calling his son, Mom walking out on me, Larxene putting her hands on me when I could have stopped her—"

"She forced you," I stated defiantly.

"It doesn't matter. The point is I've never been happy in my life. The only moments that come close are the ones when I'm with you."

"Are you saying I'm not enough?"

"I'm saying that as much as you care, you can't fix everything," he said exasperatedly.

I found myself crossing my arms, found myself growing more and more frustrated with him. He wasn't getting it. "I'm not trying to. I just want to help you through it. That's what partners _do_. That's what you've done for me, and I'm not about to sit here and let you tell me that I can't do anything. Because THAT is a load of bullshit."

"Get out."

I narrowed my eyes. "No."

"I want to be alone right now."

"I'm not leaving."

"Leave, Sora."

"No."

"Go! Before…"

"Before what?"

"Before I hit you!" This close. He was this close to actually doing it; and I froze because it scared me, because I'd never seen him quite like this before. He worried me. He stopped himself, of course—but. He'd almost slapped me. He'd almost backhanded me, and… He had stopped himself. Pulled back. Lowered his voice. "Before I hurt you, Sora… Please. Just leave."

In spite of it all, I stayed put. "No."

He broke. He had already broken the night before—probably long before then—but now he was breaking more and I just couldn't stand it. The boy pressed his back against the wall, started sinking down until he was hugging his knees to his chest. He was a child then, and I just couldn't stand it, couldn't stand it at all, it hurt… His shoulders shook and his curtain of silver with him, and even though he was trying to hide them I could hear the quiet sobs slipping from his mouth.

I had to keep myself from crying with him again as I took a seat beside him on the floor. I had to keep it together for him. He needed someone right now who could keep it together… I sat with him and I hugged him close to me, holding back my own tears. And I whispered, "I'm not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not. I'm gonna be right here. If I leave… I don't want a repeat of what I did to you, Riku. We don't need that. I'm staying right here."

He was quiet for a long time, letting the words sink in. The only sound was that of his sobs. At least they slowed as the minutes ticked away. I hugged him tighter.

"Sora…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Kairi, Naminé, and I made a plan on Sunday. Since the dance was on Monday, we figured today was as good a time as any. I remember that they were surprised when I invited them over to the mall that morning.<p>

"Is Riku okay? Were you able to get a hold of him," Naminé asked me the moment we met up by the bookstore. I couldn't help but smile a little at the worried way she gripped my hands in hers, at how wide her blue eyes were when she looked at me. Kairi was behind her, shooting me the same expression. Riku had some really amazing friends…

I nodded, shaking the blonde's hands a little. "It's okay. I spoke with him yesterday and the night before."

"But is he okay?"

"He'll… He'll be fine."

He had to be. He would be.

We walked around the mall as I filled them in on what Riku had told me. Not everything. I think… It wasn't my place to tell them anything about _that woman_. He had even asked me not to before I had left yesterday. With the police it was different; they were trained to handle these types of things. They would, hopefully, be able to help. But I didn't think it would be right for me to tell everyone, even if it was just Kairi and Naminé.

"I'll tell them when I'm ready," Riku had told me, "So please. Just don't say anything to anyone else."

And I'd given him a reluctant yet understanding, "Okay."

So, for now, I just told Naminé and Kairi about his mother, that he'd been down—really down—ever since she left. I told them that the police were looking for her, but Riku highly doubted that she would turn up. He'd all but given up on her.

"And he still wants to go to the dance in spite of all of this," Kairi asked incredulously.

I gave a small sigh and nodded, brushing wig hair out of my face. "He said it'd make him feel better. And if he wants to go, then…"

"So what are we gonna do?"

"I was thinking, since Rox and Xion are meeting up at our place then getting dinner… Maybe the six of us could get together to eat."

"Yeah, but Kai's dad already made us reservations at some Italian restaurant. It'll be her, me, and our parents. I dunno if he can change it to add more."

"Then we can…"

We talked at length about how the six of us would meet up, about where we could do it, about how we wouldn't mention any of Riku's recent drama at all tomorrow. We would focus on the dance and nothing but. If anything, we wanted to take our minds off of things as well.

We made plans while we got our nails done. We made plans while I watched Kairi and Naminé get their hair done. We made plans while grabbing soft pretzels in the food court. We made plans even as Naminé's mother picked us up and dropped us off at our respective homes. By the time I trudged back into Gram's place, I was all planned out. But at least we'd be ready for tomorrow. I wanted it to be perfect, for Riku's sake.

_But will it really help anything? Does he really want to go, or is it because of me?_

The more I kept thinking about that, the more frustrated and worried I became. Eventually I settled myself face down on my bed and just laid there for minutes on end. Maybe an hour later I heard the front door, heard Ma and Rox coming in and greeting Grams. Heard Grams call my name from downstairs which I didn't answer to. It wasn't until Roxas poked his head inside a few minutes later that I looked up.

The blonde gave me a curious look. "What's up with your face?"

"Urgh, shut up," I mumbled half-heartedly into my pillow. "I'm thinking."

He just chuckled. "Well, don't think too hard. You'll hurt yourself."

"Mm…"

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

We were talking… It was still kind of weird getting along with Roxas like this, like we used to when we were younger—not that it was a bad thing. Not at all; I enjoyed it. But it still took some getting used to.

I felt the bed give a slight creak as he sat down beside me, felt his fingers lightly run through my wig. With a sigh I lifted my head enough to yank the wig off and toss it on the floor. I felt the boy's curious eyes on me as I pressed my face back into the pillow again. We just sat there for a moment before I looked up at him and said, "It's Riku."

He narrowed his eyes and frowned. "What did he do?"

"Why do you assume he did something wrong?"

"It's Riku."

"I thought you two made up."

"We did," he said with a small smile. "But still."

"Mm."

"Did _you_ do something wrong?"

"No. Just… He's got a lot going on right now is all, and I don't know what else I can do to help him." I admitted it with a sigh, hugging my pillow to my cheek. "His mom left, Roxas. Two weeks ago. Just walked out."

"What?"

"They had an argument and she left and she hasn't been back since."

Disbelief for a moment, then it quickly turned to exasperation. The blonde leaned back on the bed, arms holding him up from behind. He cocked his head to the side, thought for a moment, before letting out a breath. "I knew they had a bad relationship, but damn. So you were at his place yesterday?"

"And Friday. I just… I dunno, I guess I'm not sure what else to do."

I had to refrain from saying anything else about… _God,_ thinking about that woman drove me insane, made me want to scratch my eyes out. It pissed me off, it really did. And it made me sad to think that there were other people like her out there, hurting other kids. Hurting other people like Riku, ruining their lives and worse… It didn't seem right for me to keep quiet about it either, even though I'd already made a report. Something like this would eat away at me until Riku went and told someone himself. He really needed to.

But I kept quiet about all of that and merely let Roxas pat me on the back. He nibbled on his bottom lip a bit before he said, "Just keep spending time with him like you're doing now and he should be fine."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Mm…"

I slipped my eyes closed then, suddenly tired. Rox's voice was soft as he cautiously ran fingers through my spikes of hair. "You two are really into each other, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I can tell."

I was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "Did you love him?"

"Huh?"

"When you two were together. Did you love him?"

"…No."

Oh.

When he caught the surprised look on my face, he gave me a look that was partly sheepish, partly amused, and partly ashamed. His fingers paused with him for a couple seconds but continued their movements when he finally replied, "I mean, I guess I had thought I did. But when I really think about it, no. I'd just wanted to try something different and realized too late that it was all one-sided. And that wasn't fair to him, so…"

"You just pretended to stop caring instead of telling him that," I finished for him with a whisper. That just earned me a slow nod.

"How do you tell someone you never had any real feelings for them in the first place? Especially someone who loves as passionately as Riku does?"

He had a point…but still. He should have… And I kept thinking of Axel at that moment, because that seemed to be the exact situation we had been in. That seemed to…make a little more sense. Not that I thought it was okay, but when he put it like that… "I mean, it probably would have been better if you had told him, Rox. At least then, you wouldn't have ended up with such a rocky relationship afterwards."

"It is what it is. He's got you now, and that's what matters."

"Yeah…"

"Just stick with him, Sora. You're good at that." With that he rose to his feet, gave me one last pat to the back, then headed for the door. "Whatever funk he's stuck in, he'll snap himself out of it. He's too hard headed not to."

I didn't move from my bed but gave a nod against my pillow all the same. "Yeah."

"Anyway, don't stay here for too long. Ma wanted to go out together at Friday's tonight, the four of us. Thought it would be good for us. Be ready to leave at six."

"'Kay."

"Sora."

I looked up to see the boy halfway through the doorway, eyeing me carefully. He opened his mouth to speak then stopped. I blinked in confusion. "What is it?"

"It'll be okay."

I shot him a smile, grateful for this talk. For his input. For all the changes between us. It was starting to feel more and more like old times, and I just wanted him to know that I was grateful for it. That I loved him for it. He probably already knew that, though.

"I know."

* * *

><p>Monday. April twenty-third.<p>

Today was the day. That thought kept running through my head over and over again in every class, during every lecture and lesson. It was hard holding it all in, keeping it to myself when I really wanted to tell someone about my plans for the night. Even though no one at my school—that I knew of—was going to the dance anyway. Plus the only people I _could_ possibly tell were avoiding me. Ever since I'd come out it had been like that. It kind of bummed me out…

But the dance. It was impossible to stay bummed out when I thought about it. I couldn't really pin the emotion running through me as excitement. Don't get me wrong, I was excited; but it was mostly anxiousness rushing through me throughout the day, anxiousness and a slight gnawing fear that, maybe, this night wouldn't be as great as planned. Still.

Today was the day.

I couldn't have gotten out of school fast enough. Grams had picked me up, had silently driven me to Ma and Rox so I could go in my old room and get my dress. (She still…she still wasn't happy about any of this either. I tried not to think about it too much, tried not to say too much about it.) And the next few hours were basically spent running around washing up, doing makeup, checking my purse and adding last minute items like gum and money and mints, letting Ma fuss at me about safety and appropriate behavior and being careful because no one else really _knew_ about me at this school.

Roxas was in the same frenzy getting ready, though he seemed more eager to get the night over with than I did. I guess it was more awkward going with Xion than I had thought it'd be, even though they were still good friends.

Said friend ended up dropping by with her parents a little later. I had heard them from the upstairs bathroom when I plugged in my curling iron. I heard Ma greet them, heard her swoon over Xion's dress, heard Roxas say something—but I didn't want to hear it because the more I listened the more anxious and nervous I became. So I closed the door and sat on the toilet with my head buried in my arms, waiting for the curling iron to heat up.

This was too good to be true. This couldn't be happening. This was a dream or something…

Was I really about to go to a dance dressed as a girl? I'd dressed up before, no problem, so why was I only now feeling like this? Why was it just now starting to get to me? Why couldn't I calm down? Was it because this was a dance, a dance with Riku? I would be dancing with Riku— Oh God, that was just making it worse…

_You're thinking way too much,_ I told myself before rising to my feet. _You're thinking way too hard about all of this. Just calm down._

"Sora?"

I jumped at the knock on the door, at the familiar voice. Grams. It threw me off when she stepped inside the bathroom, when she eyed me with those tired blue orbs without saying a word. I just kind of stood there, feeling very naked beneath her gaze. Naked in spite of my bathrobe and makeup and already flattened hair waiting to be curled.

She frowned, reached out and touched my hair. "Is this it, then?"

I didn't quite meet her gaze. "Um… I was about to curl it."

"The way ya usually do?"

"Yes ma'am…"

"That won't do. It's a dance," she muttered a little bitterly, stepping behind me. She turned me so that I faced the mirror, continued to run her fingers through my hair. "Ya need a different style. Something different."

"Wha…"

"I'll curl it for ya. We gotta make it quick, though. Everyone's waiting for ya."

"Sorry."

"Don't ya be sorry." She had grabbed the iron by now, was already working small curls in my hair like a pro. Still with that stern expression on her face, and yet there was something very gentle about her too. Something very calm and more open than she usually was with me. Her voice was soft. "Don't ya ever be sorry for the way you're born, Sora. I figure, God made ya the way he did for a reason and I can't fault ya for that. He did it for a reason, Sora, do ya understand? He did it so the struggles could make ya stronger. That's what He always does. So don't ya ever be sorry for the way the Lord made ya, 'cause He don't make no mistakes."

"Y-yes ma'am."

"Look at me."

I did, still very confused. Still wary. But she gave me a reserved smile then, and my heart melted. "No matter what, I love ya."

"I love you too."

"Good. Now tilt your head back."

The rest is mostly a blur of events after that.

Grams had disappeared back downstairs to tell the others I was almost ready after finishing up with my hair. I remember the soaring feeling I had when I finally got myself in that dress, when I finally made it downstairs.

I remember Xion's eyes and her parents eyes and my family's eyes and Miss Aerith's eyes. (When had she arrived?) And Riku's eyes. All on me. I know that sounds conceited, but I felt like I had gone to Heaven and back when I walked down those stairs to smiling faces.

I remember eating dinner and talking and laughing and joking and just genuinely enjoying myself in spite of my earlier nervousness. I remember seeing the way Riku's eyes lit up whenever he looked at me, whenever he spoke.

I remember how the rest of my nervousness just disappeared when we met up with Kairi and Naminé. I remember chocolate fountains and plastic cups of juice with gold glitter on the outside and bodies pressed together as the music got louder. I remember—vividly—Riku's body pressed to mine as we danced.

I remember our slow dance.

I remember how things stopped blurring together at that point, how I felt more apprehensive of everything the moment he stared so deeply into me. I remember some of the anxiousness coming back, some of the guilt coming back, and it grew and grew until the mental calm I had maintained for so long faded.

"What's wrong?"

He was frowning at me at that point, worried. And I couldn't help it, really. I felt like I was about to cry then because he was always so worried about me. No matter what, it was always about me, and…

"I feel like I'm forcing you to be here…" I managed to choke out.

"You're not."

"But—"

"I want to be here, Sora." And he meant it. I knew he meant it. I could see it in his eyes, could see the truth of the matter, could see his feelings radiating. He was here for me. But he was here for himself too.

That's all I wanted.

I found myself pulling him closer. "It's not gonna be all bad, you know. It's not always the bad, Riku. Things'll turn around. You just gotta take the steps to make them turn around, because it won't happen on its own."

"I know."

"Do you really know?" Did he really? Did he really understand what I was trying to tell him? Did he understand that I wanted him to get the help he needed?

Did he really know?

"I know that, with you, things always turn around. It's always the good with you," the boy told me quietly, just causing me to shake my head.

"I'm not perfect."

"And I'm a frikkin' saint?" he asked with a laugh. "You don't have to be, Sora. You just be you."

"And you can just be you. I want the old Riku back."

"The old Riku?"

"The Riku that didn't let people step all over him…"

That was a mistake. I shouldn't have said it, shouldn't have even thought it, because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to say something like that when he already felt like crap, when he was already going through so much, and here I was chastising him for it… And his expression grew cold so quickly, just making the feeling worse.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Riku, I shouldn't have said anyth—"

I was silenced with a kiss. I had my breath stolen by his smile. I was shocked by the gentle way he pulled me into him and pressed his forehead to mine. "Just dance."

I held back the tears, placing my head on his chest. "Okay."

And we danced.

* * *

><p>"She's not pressing charges?"<p>

"No. Not yet, anyway."

Wow. Just… Wow.

It was Thursday. Riku thought we needed a change of pace, something slower and calmer than usual—at least, more so than what was going on these past few weeks—so we took a walk through the forest outside his school that evening. It was way past when school actually let out, seeing as I'd had to wait until after my second meeting with Dr. Whitfield. (My therapy sessions were now every other Thursday, in accordance with her busy schedule. Not that I minded, since the sessions were worth it.)

The forest was actually much thicker than I had thought it would be, even had a lake resting in the middle of it. Something wide and soothing, with still dark waters that seemed to want to suck you in. And the way the light of the setting sun reflected off of the watery surface was just breathtaking to me. It was hard for me not to be awed.

Riku wasn't looking anywhere near as pleased with the sight. In fact, all the happiness and comfort that I had expected after the dance on Monday was gone. Like the depression had set right back in without me realizing it until now. Except it was worse this time. When he had asked me out here I had figured he was feeling better, but there had been something off about him the moment we'd met up.

I didn't like it.

He just stood by the water's edge, hands gobbled up by his jacket pockets and hair blowing lightly in his face. Just staring at the wilting trees and damp grass and pinkish-orange sky with this…weird look on his face. Like he wasn't completely there. Like he couldn't enjoy the beauty in front of him, even though he had asked to show it to me.

I silently watched him for a moment before walking up behind him and pulling his hair out of his face, holding it back into a ponytail as I leaned into him. He didn't seem to mind. "Well… Why not?"

"Search me, Sora," he mumbled absently. He was very stiff, very distracted… "I really don't know what goes on in that woman's head. Don't care to."

"Huh."

"The police are still investigating. They don't have enough evidence to prove without a doubt she did anything. But Officer Awning said, with what they know now, they have enough to hold her for another incident. They're just waiting until she's released from the hospital."

"She's still there?"

"Apparently she has a concussion."

I couldn't help but let out a laugh at that, and the first thing that popped in my head was that she had had it coming. I still couldn't believe that Riku had attacked her in the first place, let alone the fact that he hadn't been arrested for it. Something about self defense—though, from what he had told me, there hadn't been much to defend against. But still, knowing that she was in the hospital licking her wounds was satisfying.

I shook my head, though, and bit my lip to keep myself from giggling anymore. "Sorry."

An amused look entered his eyes even though the rest of his face remained the same as he glanced over at me. "Why?"

"I shouldn't be laughing about that."

"Bitch deserved it," he snorted.

_At least I'm not the only one who thinks so._I just smiled for a little longer before growing more serious, before hugging onto the boy's arm and pressing my cheek to his shoulder. "So when they start questioning her…"

A long silence. Green eyes turned back towards the waters, grew a little colder once more. Then: "This isn't the first time she's been accused of assault."

I blinked, glanced up at him. "What?"

"There was another boy… He was seventeen at the time." He was having a hard time getting the words out, was growing quieter and quieter with each second. And there was something almost unreadable in his face, but I could make out the slight confusion he was feeling. It laced his tone as well. "But the charges were dropped before they could even get to a trial. No one knows why. They say he told his lawyer that it had been a lie from the start, but that's a load of bullshit. They said they're gonna try talking to him and get his side of the story, see what really happened."

"Where is he?"

"Dunno. They didn't tell me much about him. He's probably in his early twenties, though… He might not want to talk about it."

"Even though there was enough evidence to prove she was guilty?"

"They don't know that for sure, but…" Finally he seemed to relax a bit and leaned into me, resting his head on top of mine. "If they can get his story, Sora, they might be able to put her away."

"Even though it's been years?"

"Yeah."

"That's good, Riku," I breathed incredulously, hugging his arm tighter. "Oh my God… This is really good."

"Yeah."

"So why do you still look sad?"

"Because there's no guarantee for anything. Because Mom's still out there somewhere. And my camera…"

And I'd almost forgotten about that. It was the one detail that had been the hardest for him to share with me. It was the one thing that had almost made him close himself off completely like before. It was the last thing he had wanted to talk about, I was sure, and even though it was just a machine that could be replaced… Well, it hurt him more than the fact that his mother was missing. I could see that much.

That said something.

I found myself pouting with him. "But you still have your old camera."

"It's not the same," he dismissed with a scowl before sitting down in the grass with crossed legs. I settled beside him, still hugging onto his arm as he slipped his eyes closed.

I knew it wasn't the same, but still… It was the thought that counted, right? There had to be something else I could do. "Well, you could save for a new one. I'll help you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. It's only fair—"

"It's not the same, Sora," he snapped, causing me to jump. His eyes had flicked open when the words left his mouth, still staring ahead in that cold way that just sent a chill down my spine. And he was speechless for a moment, a moment in which I let my arms drop away from his and into my lap. He sighed as I pulled away, reaching an arm around my shoulder and pulling me back. The loving kiss he pressed to my forehead felt hot against my skin. Almost like he was reassuring me that his anger was misdirected, that he meant no real harm. He evened his tone. "My mom gave me that camera for Christmas."

"Oh." That changed things. That changed everything…

"The old camera's the old Riku. The Riku that hadn't met you. The new one was supposed to be the new Riku, a fresh start."

He sounded as small as I felt. But. He was looking at this all wrong. Hadn't I told him the other night? Things wouldn't be all bad. It wouldn't always be the bad. Hadn't I told him that the other night? I shook my head against his. "Well… Maybe this is a sign that you need another fresh start. Maybe the first one wasn't good enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you can't let this get you down. We'll just delete the pictures the old Riku took on the old camera. And you can start over."

"You think it's that easy?"

"It's something."

"Sora."

"Huh?"

"Just. Just don't talk right now."

He said it softly, said it while shifting so that he was sitting behind me, while he was slipping his eyes closed yet again. Both of his arms were wrapped tightly around my chest then, hugging me into his warmth and strength, and I could feel his nose tickling the back of my head. It felt so nice and yet so strange because he still, even now, didn't seem completely comfortable.

But I just sat there leaning into him. Kicked my sandals off before dipping my feet in the cool water, breaking its still. It was probably dirty, but I didn't really care. I kicked them a bit just so I'd have something to do. We just stayed like that for what felt like ages—but I couldn't keep quiet for very long. I knew he wanted silence, but I really couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Do you know how sad you look right now?"

"I don't like it," he mumbled in my ear.

"Me neither. You need to smile."

"Smiling doesn't make me feel better."

"Then I'll find a reason for you to smile." I ran my fingers over his, gripped them. Maybe it registered with him then just how hard it was for me to see him like this, because he stared at me with this searching look. This look of realization. Not quite an epiphany, but very close.

And he smiled for the first time today. It was small, but it was enough for me.

"You're reason enough."

* * *

><p>Friday was the day things at school took a drastic turn. Three words.<p>

Seifer and friends.

See, I had had a bad feeling about them since that night at the club. That feeling had only grown two days ago, on Wednesday. Still, I wasn't talking to any of my friends—more really, they weren't talking to me—so I had just been eating lunch by myself that day. And out of nowhere one of Seifer's friends—I hadn't recognized him until after he had left—popped up in front of me with a camera and said, "Say cheese, Spikey."

And _snap!_ he'd gotten a picture of me staring at him with an "O" expression on my face, because he had caught me off guard. And just as quickly he had left. I didn't know _why_ until Friday. I had expected something, so it was no surprise to me that they decided to pull something that day during gym. It was _what_ they decided to pull that threw me off a little bit.

We were all back in the locker room, hitting the showers and changing back into our clothes. Class was just about over and Coach had told us to dress out a little early that day, so we had been taking our time. And I hated it for obvious reasons, kept thinking how I'd rather choke to death on a sweaty G-string than spend one more day stuck in this stink hole. I had approached my locker after toweling off, had glanced up at Hayner—who was still very awkward around me.

Except he was fuming because he had noticed this picture someone had taped to the front of my locker. Before I could even get a good look at it, he had ripped it off and crumpled it up. "Stupid fuckers."

"Let me see it," I said, reaching for it.

"It's stupid."

"Give it to me."

And I uncrumpled it then, examined it.

They had photoshopped my head—the picture from Wednesday—on the body of some nude woman. A very…unhealthily large, sagging old woman holding a martini in her hand and posing in a way that was not becoming for her figure. But it was my face on it with sharpie hearts coming out of my head and the words **Drag Hag** scribbled on top and…

Hayner snatched it back and crumpled it up again, holding it in his fist. "I saw Seifer tape it on earlier, but I didn't know what it was. I just noticed it. People were walking by and fucking laughing at it and I didn't even know what the fuck it was. Stupid—"

"It's fine," I muttered, ignoring the heat rising up in my face and spinning the combination on my locker.

Hayner pounded his fist against his own locker, though, glared daggers at me. "No it's fucking _NOT_, Sora! God, grow some fucking balls! It's _not_ okay!"

He was mad because it was me. Because he was my friend. As weirded out as he may have been, as uncomfortable as he may have been, as much as he was giving me the silent treatment; he was still my best friend. He was still gonna look out for me. Because that's what Hayner did. I had to fight hard to keep the sting of tears out of my eyes as I thought that. Just bit my lip instead. "Just drop it, Hayner."

"You can't just take that, Sora. You can't just roll over and take it like— The hell?"

Oh, but of course it didn't stop there.

Somehow they had gotten into my locker. There was no doubt it was them. I just had that feeling in the back of my head that let me know that it was. Somehow they had broken into my locker and taken my clothes. My backpack was fine, yes, but my clothes were gone. All of them.

They'd replaced them with a baby pink dress and Hello Kitty bra and underwear.

I heard loud whistles and chuckles in the background. Passing students who hadn't been involved but could see what was staring me in the face. Students who thought this kind of ridicule was supposed to be funny. Who probably thought I felt screwed right then, because it was either go to my last few classes in sweaty gym clothes, in the dress, or in no clothes at all.

And I felt _their_ eyes on me. Seifer's most of all. Heard their loud triumphant chatter and laughter.

They thought they were going to break me. They thought that they had planned a pretty funny prank, that they had found some way to ruin my day. They thought that this was _hilarious_—and really, the only thing I found myself thinking was that they were a bunch of idiots.

If they had _really_ wanted to make fun of me, if they had _really_ wanted to make me feel uncomfortable, they would have stuffed boys' clothing in my locker. Not a dress that I probably would have bought at the mall. And who _bought_ an outfit for the victim of their prank? Even if it wasn't all that cute. That just meant free clothes for me.

Fact of the matter was I wasn't the least bit disturbed by this. Sure, my school clothes were gone. Yes, they had only left me with a bra a cup too big, a matching pair of panties, and an unflattering sun dress that actually looked like it would fit me. (Snuggly, mind you.) But that didn't bother me. Maybe the old Sora would have taken offense. Maybe the old Sora would have flushed beet red and slammed the locker closed out of embarrassment. But I didn't even give it a second thought. I shot the chortling group of tools a determined glare before peeling off my gym shirt and grabbing the bra.

Hayner's eyes widened when he saw me strap it on. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Putting on a bra. What's it look like."

"Sora!"

"They could've at least gotten something cuter," I mumbled, slipping out of my shorts and underwear just as shamelessly. I put the underwear on—adjusted it quite a bit, because it…didn't cover up everything… It wasn't designed like the rest of the underwear I usually ordered, but I wasn't taking them off. Then I started slipping on the dress, yanking it over my head all the while ignoring the very audible hoots and sounds of disgust from the other guys. Everywhere I felt eyes on me.

But I didn't care. That was the freaky thing about it. Something must have been wrong with me. Or maybe not. I'm still not sure, but there was no explaining the sudden burst of adrenaline that rushed through me at that moment.

This so wasn't me. This couldn't be me. Could it? And yet I was doing it and it felt amazing. There was such an emotional high. People were watching me. Scratch that—several very masculine, very opinionated, very aggressive guys were watching me put on a dress. And not one person said anything or touched me. The moment they saw that I wasn't fazed, that I wasn't embarrassed by it—

The whole locker room got quiet.

I grabbed my backpack from my locker, shoved my gym clothes inside. I'd have to settle with wearing sneakers with this outfit, as mismatched as it seemed. Not like it would have made it better. And I slammed my locker closed and slung the bag over my shoulder before slowly making my way over to Seifer and his airheaded friends.

They were just as stunned and speechless as everyone else. Staring. I stood inches from Seifer himself and pursed my lips at him. "You've got something to say to me?"

No response. Just a cool stare. I shook my head at him.

"If you've got a problem with me, you come at me like a man and say it to my fucking face. I'm supposed to be the girl here."

_Did I really just say that? OhmyGod, did I really just say that to _Seifer_ of all people? And with a straight face?_

It wasn't a dream, though. I wasn't imagining those words, and I definitely wasn't imagining the deep red tint his face took in response. Or the way his friends were eyeballing each other with spanked expressions, with the same look that told me that they were all equally shocked that their plan had backfired. Or the way one of the other guys in the back let out a whooping laugh and yelled, "DAYUM, Seifer just got _told_, son!"

Or the way the rest of the locker room, slowly, started laughing as well. Or the way that, soon, everyone was laughing at him and his posse, or shooting me good-natured cat calls or cheers as I whipped around to leave. Or the way Hayner, who had struggled to finish changing and gathering his things, was shuffling after me with the same deer-in-the-headlights expression. Or the way two of the gym coaches eyeballed me in shocked confusion as I walked out of the boys' locker room. Or the way some of the girls trailing out of their locker room and to their next class shot me the same expressions.

Or the way I was actually laughing—both hysterically and amusedly—as I continued into the hallway without a care in the world.


	21. Unwritten

**Riku; Drench Yourself in Words Unspoken**

I had to relive it yet again. Two weeks of thinking about it nonstop, of remembering it, of playing it over and over again in my head against my will. It seemed like so much longer than that, though. Two weeks ago, and yet it felt like months or years… It was hard, having to tell them everything, having to recount every little detail from then up until now. I couldn't help but think, maybe, I was blowing this out of proportion. Maybe it really wasn't as bad as it felt; maybe it would have been better if I hadn't opened my mouth at all. That's how unnerving their grilling was. But I answered every question about that day anyway.

What had I been wearing? What had she been wearing?

What time? What place? Why had I been in her apartment in the first place? For how long? Had anyone else been there?

Who was Paine Le'breau and what was my relationship to her? What had she heard that day? Had she even heard anything? Did I have her contact information? Could she testify for or against me, depending on what she knew?

What about Larxene? Had she been acting different than usual? Was she intoxicated or under any sort of influence? Was she in control of her actions or unaware of what she'd been doing?

What _had_ she been doing? Did she hit me? Did she pin me down? Did she threaten me? What, exactly, had she said that day? Where had she touched me? How? Did she have any distinct markings or tattoos that stuck out to me? Piercings? Where?

Had I washed away the evidence since then? Did I still have the underwear I'd worn that day? The pants? The shirt? Had I washed or thrown away any of them? Had I gone back to her apartment any time after that? Had she been harassing me?

Was that it? Was there any detail I was missing? Anything at all? Big, small, significant or otherwise. Had I told them the whole story? Why had I waited so long to say anything? Who else had I told? What was _their_ contact information?

So many probing, personal questions at once in a long amount of time. It was like someone had set me up on a pedestal in a crowd of scrutinizing spectators, like I was on display for the entire world to see. Like I had no choice but to speak or else they would lock me away. Or call me a liar…

I think I was at that hospital speaking with the police for hours, just spewing answers in that tiny room. They had the blinds drawn closed and the lights on too bright, and even though I was just there for a few stitches and head scans I felt like I was going to die. My head continued to ring and buzz when Officer Awning and her partner stepped out to let some detective start questioning me. Apparently he'd been investigating my case since Sora's report, but today was the first time we got to speak to each other. Then some roughly shaven blonde man in a suit stepped in and started asking me the exact same questions. Then more.

How old was I? Who and was my legal parent or guardian? Would I be able and willing to go to court as needed?

Would I be able to face Larxene in court?

Much to his surprise—and my own—I had given an immediate yes in response. Then he shook my hand with this pleased smile, told me his name, and said we'd get to know each other very well very soon. Ansem Wise. Only later would I find out that he would be my prosecuting attorney.

By the time he had left, Aerith had gotten over her initial shock and seemed much more together. Much more like her usual self. I could tell finding out about all of this was just eating away at her, but she hadn't said much since we'd gotten to the hospital. Just sat aside and listened to what was being said. At this point she had heard my story so many times that she was just as numb from it as I was.

In total, including that night with Sora, I had told this story four times. Four times. Each time there had been a little part of me that wanted to crawl away into a hole somewhere and just stay there. Again and again I kept thinking about the slight chunk of regret that kept whispering to my heart, "You're making a mistake, idiot. Opening your mouth gets you nowhere." It seemed easier to just pretend it was all a lie, to tell them I had made a mistake and that I was to blame. It seemed easier to try and forget.

Because when it came right down to it, that woman had money. She had money and plenty of people who would probably back her up if I decided to pursue this. I knew she did. She'd find a way to get off unharmed and then she'd take it out on me, somehow.

_You're paying for this, brat…_

"Riku."

I looked up from my spot on the hospital bed, took in the look on Officer Awning's face. She stepped back into the room alone, closing the door behind her and glancing from Aerith to me. "You're all stitched up?"

I ran a finger over the now fixed up cut above my eye with a slight sigh. "Yeah."

"Then you can head on home, now."

"You're definitely not arresting me?"

She frowned, exchanging a look with the mentally exhausted Aerith who was collecting our things as we spoke. "Why do you keep asking me that? You did nothing wrong."

Now I _knew_ that was a lie. Not that I _regretted_ anything. No. If sharing the same building with Larxene was the result of me doing something I didn't remember, then I figured it was well worth it. From what I'd heard, she'd be stuck here for a while with a nice little concussion and a number of broken bones to keep her company. But no matter how you diced it, I _had_ attacked her and I _was_ at fault…

"It was self defense, Riku," Officer Awning explained as if reading my mind. Her eyes were soft. "We have two witnesses that say she put her hands on you first and provoked you."

I blinked. "What witnesses?"

"Me," Aerith said quietly, approaching the side of the bed and rubbing small circles on my back. She knit her brows together in a worried way, causing me to stare at her curiously. "I heard her yelling at you from the top of the stairs, so I came out to see…"

"And then there's the man who called 911 in the first place," Officer Awning finished. "Mr. Trivet."

"Who?"

"Her fiancé, hun."

Marluxia? He had seen what happened? Must have… Maybe he had driven up just as the model had grabbed me. Or maybe he had been over at her apartment and came out to see what the noise was about, just as Aerith had.

But why would he tell the truth about that, if he really loved his fiancé? Why wouldn't he lie, or at least make her out to be the more innocent one in this situation? I'd only met him once, so it was weird. Did this mean he was on my side, or…

Marluxia?

"Besides," Officer Awning continued, "it doesn't matter if it was self defense or not. I've been talking with her and she says she doesn't want to press any charges."

If I had looked confused before, it was nothing compared to the look on my face now. "What?"

"She didn't give me a reason why. She just said she wasn't pressing this any more than she needed to."

"She's probably going to wait until we get to court," Aerith muttered with such a hateful tone that I would never expect from her. She wasn't particularly looking at me or Officer Awning, just off into space with this scowl on her petite face. "She'll probably use this as some sort of defense against you…"

I didn't say anything. Officer Awning was silent for a moment as well before clearing her throat a little and shooting a fleeting glance at the door behind her. Her voice was quiet. "Well… It probably won't matter what her defense is."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She paused for a long time. Then: "I can't say too much, but… Roughly nine years ago, there was another boy your age, Riku. My partner tells me that there were allegations of rape on his part against Larxene, but for some reason he recanted his statement. It never went to trial, so the charges were dropped. Unfortunately he was placed in a juvenile facility for filing a false report after, and a year later he was released."

Wh… Who the hell would _take back_ their statement? Why? If there had been evidence that would have locked that bitch away, then why hadn't he taken that chance? Why would he let her run free just so she could put her hands on someone else? Just so she could put her hands on me? Had he thought the same things I had thought just earlier? That it was impossible to take her on? That it was better to keep quiet? That it was a mistake saying anything in the first place? Why…

I shook my head, fought hard to keep my voice level. "You don't really think he lied about it, do you?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, hun. We'll get in contact with him, see if he can give us his side of the story. Depending on how this goes, we can put her away for both your sakes."

Both our sakes…

Suddenly, I wanted to meet this boy. This man. Nine years ago… He would be twenty-five now. He would be out of college and working and living his life, probably still thinking back on that day that he and Larxene… It probably still stuck with him, that shame. It probably still haunted him, that hurt. He probably never forgot, just like I couldn't, even after nearly a decade.

I wanted to meet him. I wanted to hear his story. I wanted him to speak, for my sake. As selfish as that sounded, it was still true. That was how I felt. I wanted him to tell the truth. I wanted to know why he had pretended to lie. Had she threatened him? Had she done worse to him than she had to me? What was his story? How did he deal with it? I wanted to know, so I could learn to deal with it too. Because even with the possible promise of jail for Larxene, that didn't take away the damage she'd dealt. How was he dealing with it?

I wanted to meet him, right now.

Officer Awning seemed to sense the eagerness welling up inside of me and gave a slight smile, shook her head. "You need rest right now. Go on home, both of you."

"Thank you," Aerith said to her with a grateful bow of the head, then she motioned for me to get off of the bed and follow her to the door. I was reluctant, still wanting to continue this conversation. I ended up eyeing the officer almost longingly as I paused by the door.

She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I'll call you soon. We'll keep you updated."

"O…kay."

"Take care."

Then we checked out of the hospital. We checked out of the hospital and drove back to Aerith's place, silently agreeing that we'd worry about the leftover boxes at my apartment another day. We just had that kind of connection, you know.

And I waited until we were just walking into her house before turning to look at the brunette. "Aerith?"

She directed her innocent gaze at me, almost tearful. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

And she just let it go right then, just started crying and shaking her head and her curls, and she pulled me into a tight hug that I found hard not to return. I just couldn't, not with the way she was holding me and shuddering against me and— She was letting out all the pain she had held in when the ambulance had first taken me away. I knew it. She was probably replaying our conversation at the café in her head again, wondering why she hadn't picked up on the fact that there was more going on than just my mother's disappearance.

She had to force her words out through her tears. "I'm gonna take care of you. Okay? I don't care what I have to do or who I have to talk to or what I have to go through. I'm gonna make you mine and I'm gonna take care of you, baby. Okay? Is that okay?"

I pressed the side of my face into her warmth. "Please don't cry."

"I mean it. You're like a son to me. I mean it, I r-really…" She couldn't get the words out anymore, but she didn't need to. I was grateful to have someone like her in my life.

This was what a mother's love was supposed to feel like.

I hugged her even tighter and slipped my eyes shut. "I know."

* * *

><p>I didn't go to school on Wednesday. Aerith had dropped me off early, of course, before driving off to work. And I had kissed her cheek goodbye after all the crap she had to put up with at the hospital yesterday—really, that woman deserved that and more—but the moment I saw her turn down the road was the moment I cut across the school yard towards the opposite street. Towards the public library. It was one I usually didn't hang out at. It was much larger, much more organized and cozy. The one I usually went to was closer to my apartment, was more run down. But that didn't matter.<p>

I spent about an hour there before deciding that wandering around, reading snippets of books and graphic novels weren't cutting it for me. I was bored. A little restless. One of the librarians there kept shooting me suspicious looks every time I passed the front shelves, like I was going to snatch the books resting there. (Who the hell stole library books?) I left not long after, just tired and wondering what I could do to kill time.

Taking pictures was out of the question. My old camera, the Kodak, wasn't with me, was resting at my new home on the nightstand. Because taking pictures on it wasn't the same thing. Taking pictures in general wasn't the same thing anymore. It wasn't worth it.

I couldn't believe that thought crossed my mind, but I meant it.

So I was mildly pissed and confused on what to do next when I made it back outside and stopped on the library's steps. I took a seat by the entrance, stared off into the street and the parking lot off to the side. Weren't that many people this time of day. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Go back to school? What—

My phone vibrated. It threw me off for a moment because I couldn't think of anyone that would be texting me during school hours other than Kairi, Naminé, or Sora. But it wasn't any of them, from what I saw. I examined the text with furrowed brows.

'**Tara, do me a solid and pick me up after work.'**

Then my heart stopped. I eyed the number, silently stared at it for what felt like an eternity.

My mom had texted me on accident.

At first the shock was too great for me to think let alone move. Then a seed of doubt planted itself in my mind, making me question if this was really my mother texting me. She had left her phone at home. But no, that was her signature beneath the words, her name spelled out in hearts and periods to space out the letters and… It must have been a different phone. She must have gone to Verizon or whoever and switched her number onto a different cell. That was the only plausible explanation I could come up with.

My mother had texted me.

Mom had texted me.

And she thought I was someone named Tara. I didn't know whether to be offended by the fact that she seemed to be fine or ecstatic about it. So I thought, maybe, I'd text her back and hope she wouldn't realize she'd made a mistake. But that wouldn't do. I needed to hear her voice. I needed to hear from the woman's mouth why she hadn't contacted me sooner, so I called her.

"Hello?"

I didn't say anything at first. Just sat on those stairs, silent, angry. Tearful. Bit my bottom lip. She sounded like she usually did. A little tired, a little bored, but okay. She sounded okay…

"Hello? Tara?"

"Mom."

There was silence. For such a long time.

"Mom, where are you?"

"S…shit."

And she hung up. And I was still and silent for so long, such a long time, before—

I called her sixteen more times, each of which went ignored. I texted her repeatedly, always the same question: **'Where are you?'** She ignored those too, but I kept calling and texting and wondering why, wondering how, wondering where. Eventually my calls started going straight to voicemail. Eventually I got tired of hitting the send button over and over again. Eventually I just got tired of it all, screamed a string of profanities that would make a sailor blush, and threw my cell halfway across the pavement. Then I just kept screaming period, not caring who the fuck heard or saw. Luckily no one did.

Then, when I got that out of my system, I snatched up my bag, retrieved my scratched up (but still functioning) phone, and walked all the way back to Aerith's place.

She was a selfish child in a woman's body. She was a child who didn't know how to handle responsibility—no, she didn't _want_ it. She didn't _want_ responsibility or everything that came with it. She didn't want to be a mother. She didn't want to be a wife. She didn't want to be a role model. She didn't want to be with me, didn't want to be there for me, didn't want to be around me, didn't want to think about me. She just didn't _want_ me. She'd made that clear. And you know what, what the fuck ever, I didn't want her either. Not anymore. Whatever. What the flipping fuck ever, she could starve in a ditch for all I cared. She could be beaten to death for all I cared. I wished the worst kind of death on her, too. I wanted her to feel every moment of it, to _beg_ for some form of forgiveness that she would—never—ever—get. Or deserve.

She didn't _deserve_ anything. She didn't deserve a damn thing. It made sense that her husband had walked out on her, even if he hadn't taken me with him. It had made sense, she probably couldn't have handled him then either. He probably saw her for the flirty, dirty, airheaded, silver haired, teal eyed fucking bimbo that she was and got out before it was too late. She hadn't deserved his love. She hadn't and still doesn't deserve anyone's love, especially not mine. Whatever. So many chances, I'd given her so many chances—

What was so hard about treating your kid right, raising him right, teaching him what he needed to be taught, loving him how he needed to be loved? What was so fucking hard about that? Why was that so hard? Why couldn't she love me? Why the fuck couldn't she _love me_? Hadn't she said she had, so many times before? Hadn't she acted like it? Hadn't she treated me as a son once upon a time ago? Or was she just pretending to? Had she only done it because she had been mistreated and dumped by every other man in her life, so damn if she let go of the only male in her life that was guaranteed to love her? Her own son. He had to love her, right? She couldn't get love from any other male, so her son would have to do? He could be her fallback. Was that all it ever was?

_Stop. Breathe._

Hadn't she—

_Just breathe._

I shouldn't have to raise myself. I shouldn't have to come to any of these conclusions. I shouldn't have to deal with this. I shouldn't be so angry at everything and everyone ninety percent of the time. I shouldn't be so tired and jaded and depressed and lonely. I shouldn't have to feel like I'm not wanted, like I'm not worth it, like I'm _lucky_ when something does go right in my life. I shouldn't have to be so negative. I shouldn't have to wonder "why?" or "what if…" all the time. I shouldn't have to distance myself from others just because I assume they'll run away, or they'll think I'm a depressing freak, or they'll get bored, or they'll abandon me. I shouldn't have to be constantly afraid of my world falling apart. I shouldn't have to wonder how I could be happier. I shouldn't have to fantasize about my life, about a life where I'm more sociable and pleasant to be around, where I have a loving mother and father who are together and still enjoying a long marriage. I shouldn't have to deal with my parents' baggage. I shouldn't have baggage to begin with.

I shouldn't. Have. To do this.

_God damn it, breathe._

The moment I made it back inside Aerith's place, I dropped my things on the floor by the front door. And I couldn't make it any further than that, could only fall onto the floor and lie there with arms crossed and my face buried in the sleeves. My phone had leapt from my hand as I'd fallen, so it rested obnoxiously close to my elbow with its screen up.

It stayed there. I stayed there.

Around noon I got a text from Naminé. The girls were missing me during lunch time, I figured.

'**R u at school today or no? Wats up?'**

I had eyed the text for a short while before grabbing it and replying, **'Felt a little sick today. Nothing srs.'**

A few minutes' pause.

'**You sure? Nothing happened?'**

'**No.'**

'**Srsly?'**

'**Srsly.'**

'**Really?'**

'**Stop texting me. I have a headache.'**

It wasn't a lie. I'd already felt the prick of a slight ache in the back of my head, and it was growing progressively worse with each text I sent. Like needles pressing into my skull. And my mood was deteriorating from bad to worse. Naminé seemed to know better—I could imagine the worried frown she was probably shooting Kairi at the lunch table now—but she got the message. **'Feel better.'**

I didn't bother replying after that. Still didn't move from my spot on the floor after that. I stayed there for another good hour before finally picking myself up and grabbing my phone one last time. Before calling that number one last time. Before ignoring the voicemail one last time. Before texting one last time.

'**I don't need you anymore.'**

That was the only and final thing I sent to that woman. She sent only one thing back.

'**You never needed me from the start.'**

That was her final lie to me.

* * *

><p>We had a restraining order filed. It wouldn't go into effect for a couple of weeks, but it had been filed nonetheless. Then we packed the rest of my things and put them away in storage. We spoke with police and Ansem about the trial and the evidence.<p>

A warrant to search her apartment had been issued, and they were still searching every nook and cranny for something incriminating. I wasn't surprised when Officer Awning said they hadn't found anything.

"Yet, Riku. Not yet, but we will," she'd told me.

I'd just nodded and pretended to believe her.

On the other hand, the police were collecting statements and testimonies from as many people as possible. They had Paine's statement that put me in Larxene's apartment that day. They had Xigbar's statement that said she had been at a party with him, drinking heavily. Even though she hadn't seemed _that_ drunk, she really had been going to town. That could be either good or bad for her… They had Aerith and Marluxia's statements that I had assaulted her, but it had, in fact, been an act of self defense. The two of them hadn't heard exactly what Larxene had said to me, but they had heard the yelling. They also had Larxene's statements that I had constantly been over at her apartment, had even spent the night there on occasion and had a spare key to her apartment. She was spinning the story that whatever relationship we had had started out casual.

And that it had evolved into something sexual, that I was the one who'd initiated it. That I had _threatened_ her so she'd be with me. That I had kept things going for so long that, eventually, she got fed up with it and backed out. That I'd had suggestive pictures of her on my camera that she didn't want to get out, so she felt her only option was to destroy the camera after confronting me. That I'd beaten her in retaliation. There wasn't enough solid evidence on my part to prove that she was lying, but there wasn't enough to prove that she wasn't. It was literally only my word against hers.

Basically, things could go either way.

"The defense is going to set you up to be the bad guy," Ansem would tell me during our sessions together. "They're going to pummel you with questions and keep poking holes in your story until you don't look credible. You just stick with what you know is the truth, be as honest as possible, and tell your side of the story."

"And if it's not enough?" I had asked him one time.

He hadn't given me a straight answer.

I knew he didn't want to give a definite yes or no, and I knew that there was no way to predict the outcome of this, but his silence hadn't been comforting. But we kept on with the sessions for weeks and we kept going about our daily lives when we weren't worrying about the upcoming trial in May.

Larxene was released from the hospital near the end of April, and I hadn't seen or heard her since. Any contact she had with me would not only put her in deeper shit than she already was, but would serve no purpose. I wasn't going to hide from her anymore.

Aerith was given permission to keep me in her home and raise me as if I was her own. Not full custody, no—the search for my mother was still going on—but a legal right to act as my guardian for the time being. At least until they could get a hold of my mom. Or until I turned eighteen, which was just a year and a half away. Over all she was just happy to have me in the first place, always perky and supportive. I'd told her things I had held back before. About Sora. About my original relationship with Larxene. About my mother.

"Why didn't you tell the police after you called her, Riku?" The woman had stared at me with wide eyes laced with disbelief.

And I'd merely shaken my head and coolly replied, "She's not coming back regardless. I don't care anymore."

We left it at that.

I focused on other things instead. I focused on school, on keeping my grades up. On working my way back into the loop with Kairi and Naminé, on hanging out with them like I used to before anything went wrong. On spending more time with Sora. And, occasionally, Roxas. We weren't close, but we weren't butting heads anymore. I focused on preparing for the trial. I focused on keeping my head on straight and pushing the memory of Larxene to the back of my mind.

The strange thing about all of this was that as messed up as it was, as iffy as it all looked, as badly as it could turn out in the end…I was feeling much better than I had in ages. By no means was I truly happy, and some of that doubt and fear from the beginning was still hiding somewhere in the depths of my mind. But I felt calmer now, more at peace. More open. More free.

"That's because you're standing up," Sora had whispered to me one night. I'd spent the day with her that weekend and we had just sat outside her grandmother's porch talking before parting ways. "It's because you're finally realizing you don't have to be afraid, that you can stand up to her. Even if you don't win, at least you'll have faced her."

"What are you, a shrink?" I'd joked with a laugh.

She didn't laugh. "Seriously."

"I know."

"Just hang in there until it's over."

But it really wouldn't be over, not soon. Not ever. This was always going to stick with me. Sora knew that. She'd known it since that day by the lake, when I had first told her about the trials and investigations and the hospital and my lost camera. She would keep telling me that a counselor or therapist would probably be best, but my talks with her were always enough. I told her things I didn't tell anyone else, and she knew that. I trusted her more than I did anyone else, even more than Aerith or Naminé or Kairi. Plus, I didn't need to sit in a room with some certified stranger for two hours just to spill my guts or be psychoanalyzed. That wasn't necessary. I could cope just fine.

"Don't take it as denial, Sora," I'd tell her. "I just don't think it's worth it."

"There's gotta be someone other than me you could talk to, though."

"You're fine."

"But I don't know everything."

And I'd just squeezed her hand and rolled my eyes at her. "No one does."

She usually didn't argue for long. She was just worried, I got that. But really, it would be fine. Just like she had stated it was the fact that I was finally standing up that was making me feel this way. Even if Larxene managed to walk free somehow, at least I would have said something. Whether she was proven guilty or not, she wouldn't be able to work anymore. She'd be labeled as a child molester and pedophile. No matter what she said, the fact that she had been accused would always be out there after the trial. It would stick with her wherever she went. Then no one would want to take her picture.

That counted for something, right?

Honestly, the only thing that was eating away at me was the knowledge of this other boy. This man. Even now, three weeks after I first told Officer Awning the truth, I didn't know much about him. All I had was his name, which Officer Awning had been reluctant with sharing with me.

"He won't speak with us, Riku. We've talked to him on many occasions, but he's not going to budge."

That bothered me. That really bothered me. I guess, for the same reason my silence had bothered Sora when she had found out the truth as well. I got it now, really, now that I was experiencing this newfound emotional freedom after coming clean. It felt…hell, it felt damn nice to come out about something like this. Even if it could go either way, it felt really nice. And it had me wondering why I had kept quiet for so long after the fact. It had me wondering why, after so many years, this man wouldn't stop staying quiet himself.

Was he still afraid? Was he still going to lie about what had really happened? Or did he just not care anymore? Did he not believe in what had happened anymore? It didn't seem right for someone to not pursue justice where justice was deserved. Especially after so long.

It bothered me.

So I called him myself, three days before I was supposed to go to trial. May fifteenth, Tuesday after school. I went in the phone book and looked him up. Caston, Sephiroth. And I called him. It took four rings before he picked up.

"What?"

_Sheesh, way to sound pleasant._

"I…is this Sephiroth?"

There was a slight pause. I could sense the apprehension in his ice chill voice. "Yes. Who's speaking?"

"My name is Riku Prioletti."

"And?"

"I needed to talk to you."

He didn't say anything. I gripped my phone tightly in my hand, took an uneasy seat on my bed. Tried to keep my hand from shaking.

"About Larxene…"

He still didn't say anything. In fact, he was silent for so long that I actually thought he had hung up. But there was a low breath after all those minutes, a hint of exasperation. "I'm tired of hearing that name."

"The police called you about her."

"I hear she's on trial." A light groan. "Is that true?"

I nodded my head against my cell. "Yeah."

"I dropped that case years ago. They couldn't drag her to court because I refused to testify."

"It's for my case."

"That's too bad."

"I think you should testify anyway."

"Don't call this number anymore."

"You would still run away," I demanded quietly. "Even now? Even when she can't hurt you anymore? You'd still stay tight lipped when you could have stopped her before had you opened your mouth the first time? You'd leave the burden for some other boy who's just as hurt as you?"

He sounded so cold, so hardened from whatever memories Larxene's name brought back. It was understandable, really. I didn't know the whole story. I didn't know if she had done worse to him than she had to me. I really didn't know. But I could hear enough in his voice to know that not confronting her now wouldn't make things better for him. I could hear enough in his voice to know that he was still living with it.

"Are you there?" I asked, almost desperately.

There was a brief silence. "Riku, was it?"

"Yes."

"Are you free tomorrow?"

My body stiffened a little. "Why?"

"We should talk in person."

It was hard not to smile, if only a little. "Yeah, we should."


	22. Work That

**Author's Note:** The song _really_ fits this time. Love Mary J. Blige~

* * *

><p><strong>Sora; Girl, Live Your Life<strong>

They sent me to the office. By "they" I mean Mrs. Mayo, my fourth bell chemistry teacher. I had been the sixth person to walk in before the bell, and only after three more students—each of which sent me curious and/or incredulous stares—filed in did the woman realize who I was and why she hadn't quite recognized me. I guess, even though my face and hair were the same, the dress hadn't registered in her mind.

It clicked when she got a good look at me from her seat at her desk. "Sora?"

I hadn't been fazed by the way my classmates froze and went deathly silent. "Yes ma'am?"

"Why are you…? What are you wearing?"

_What do you think I'm wearing,_ I thought amusedly. "Is something wrong?"

A blink. Then an unreadable stare. "Please go see Ms. McCabe."

And instead of arguing on the matter of silently staying put, I simply gathered my things and walked off to the principal's office with Mrs. Mayo trailing behind. She probably would have forced me to go if I had said no anyway. But that wasn't the reason why I had left so quietly.

There was no wiping the smug grin off my face.

I still got stares, even now as I sat out in the waiting area of the main office. From guidance counselors that were passing by, or the woman working the info desk directly across from me, or other students waiting to speak with whoever they needed to. All eyes were burning into my skin, judgmental or otherwise, curious or otherwise. Like I was something so alien and foreign that it warranted this silent staring contest.

Mrs. Mayo was in the principal's office, her tall and twig-like form visible through the slight crack in the door. She was talking at length to Ms. McCabe, though I couldn't hear a word from where I was sitting. Didn't need to; I already knew what the problem was.

It was that fact that had my smile fading ever so slightly, and it had my sense of triumphant elation dwindling down to something indignant. It had me gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly that I thought my fingers would fall off. I felt anger. Anxiety. Frustration. Determination.

My wearing a dress shouldn't be an issue.

"Sora."

I looked up to see our principal standing in the doorway, motioning me with her finger to come inside the office and take a seat. With a brief moment of hesitation, I did so. She settled onto her desk and crossed her legs, folded her hands in front of her. Mrs. Mayo was standing off to the side, arms crossed, chewing her bottom lip in a nervous way that didn't suit her pretty face. They were both staring at me curiously, like they didn't know what to make of me. I just stared back as calmly as I could.

The Ms. McCabe spoke. "Honey, are you okay? Is everything okay?"

I remained polite. "I'm fine."

"Is someone bullying you?"

"There are bullies all over the school, but they don't intimidate me if that's what you're asking."

"Was it a bet?" Mrs. Mayo questioned, causing me to turn to her and frown.

"No."

"A dare?"

"No."

"Did you…" Here Ms. McCabe paused, crystalline blue eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to make sense of her thoughts. "Did you just feel like wearing a dress, Sora?"

Bingo. "Four boys in my gym class broke into my locker and replaced my clothes with this dress, a bra, and a pair of panties."

"Oh." They both seemed to relax a little in spite of my explanation.

I couldn't keep from grinning, though. "But yes, I did feel like wearing a dress. So I did."

And they tensed up again. "I see."

"I wasn't aware it was against school rules."

"No," Ms. McCabe assured me, shaking her head. "No, Mrs. Mayo was just worried about you."

"It's so unlike you, Sora," my teacher added, as if trying to explain why she had pulled me out of class not three minutes after I had just walked in. It sounded like an excuse to me—but I could see from the look on her face that she had meant no harm. Mrs. Mayo was a sweet woman; you'd have to be a fool not to know that. She truly looked worried. Still.

Before I even realized it, a chuckle slipped from my lips, which just made the science teacher furrow her brows even more. "There's nothing to be worried about. This is normal for me."

That's when I told them. I started telling them about what I was, who I was. What I planned on doing in the near future, regardless of what others said. I told them about Seifer and his teasing, and my therapy sessions, and my family coming to terms with everything, and my support group, and…

I told them everything. I continued to tell them, even when Ma poked inside curiously—I guess they had called her in much earlier, before they started talking to me. And the three of them listened to what I had to say so calmly, so patiently. I wondered why I hadn't said anything before. And, finally, I said what I'd had in mind from the beginning.

"I want to switch out of my gym class," I told Ms. McCabe, "to the girls' gym class. And I want to start coming to school as a girl."

"That is, she wants to be recognized and treated like one," ma added for me, taking a seat by my side and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

Ms. McCabe and Mrs. Mayo exchanged these weird looks that just made me boil a little inside, but it wasn't long before Ms. McCabe swept inky hair from her face and rose from her desk. She made a gesture to Mrs. Mayo, saying, "You can return to class, Pat. The bell's about to ring."

Mrs. Mayo stayed put. "I'm fine. They know better. They'll start their workbook problems while I'm not there." She wanted to see how this would turn out. She did close the office door for us, though, before standing off to the side once more with that same worried and curious expression on her face.

The room was silent for a brief moment before Ms. McCabe settled herself behind her desk and glanced at Ma, then at me. "Alright. Well. I understand you're starting to embrace who you are, Sora. It takes strength and courage, and I'm glad you've found both. We always want our students to express themselves. But there are guidelines, standards—"

"I didn't tell those boys to bust into my locker," I stated defiantly.

"I know that," she said with a nod. "I know, and we'll deal with the four of them. I promise you that. But you can't just surprise everyone with this and not expect them to react."

"Maybe I wanted a reaction."

"Well, did you expect a good one to come from this? Why do you think Mrs. Mayo pulled you in here? Not everyone is going to be nice about it, honey. Your classmates would have been sure to comment. It would have been a distraction."

"You talk about standards," Ma started quietly. I'd almost jumped a little at the sound of her voice because she had kept quiet for so long, but her sapphire eyes were stern when they met with Ms. McCabe's. "But from what I'm hearing, that's nothing more than a double standard."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?"

"A girl can come to school dressed in baggy jeans and a T-shirt, or even a suit, but my child can't come in a dress? That cries of hypocrisy."

"She didn't say that," Mrs. Mayo chimed quietly. She fell silent when Ma turned her cool eyes in her direction though. It was a little amusing and a little scary seeing the woman, who was a good foot or so taller than Ma—and most of the men at this school—shrink in a matter of seconds.

Ma turned back to the principal, still sounding indignantly dignified. "Is it that wrong for Sora to wear a dress? It breaks no school policies or dress codes. It goes past the knees, the straps are at least two finger widths, no cleavage is showing—"

"That's not the case, Mrs. Sabota."

"It's the fact that it's feminine clothing. It's the fact that it's a boy wearing a dress."

No one said so, but it was clear that Ma had hit the bull's eye.

And, you know, I had never seen Ma get so worked up over this. Not like now. I mean, yeah, she had done a great job in supporting me so far. She was making changes. She was using feminine pronouns when referring to me, and correcting Roxas and Grams whenever they forgot to do so. She bought me new clothes and asked me questions and read books and websites like they were the Bible. She chatted online and even exchanged phone numbers and emails with other parents she'd met through Laura's Playground. But I'd never seen her get so worked up for the cause, you know? Not like this. It just warmed me from the inside out, and in a good way. I found I didn't need to say anything, since she went on to say it for me.

"I understand that Glenston High School has standards, Ms. McCabe, and I understand you're worried about Sora's welfare. But this is my child. She doesn't identify as a boy, so the fact that she's getting in trouble for wearing clothing she sees as appropriate for her gender is not only offensive but unfair. Had it been a young woman waltzing into the classroom in clearly masculine clothing, she wouldn't be here. No one would have said a word. You would dismiss it as tomboyish, or normal considering the time we live in now.

"But the moment society sees a boy or man try to do something similar, people cry foul. Where's the justice in that? What standards is that boy or man breaking that the girl isn't? Why is it acceptable for one and not the other? And since that's the case, why can't they both be considered unacceptable? Would you implement a policy stating all females within this school had to wear a dress or skirt in order to be fair?"

Ms. McCabe had an unreadable expression on her face, had her lips pursed slightly. "No ma'am, I wouldn't. Because then that's not fair to those girls."

Ma folded her hands together in her lap, crossed her legs. Her whole demeanor made me wonder why she hadn't chosen a career in law instead of teaching. "So what are we going to do here? Do you not agree every child is entitled to their own freedom of expression, so long as it doesn't harm others?"

"Yes ma'am, I do."

"And you agree that Sora dressing as she pleases, so long as it lines up with the dress code, isn't harming anyone in the slightest."

"I agree."

"So, again, I ask you, what are you going to do here?"

"Well, for one, I want to talk to all four of those boys and their parents first thing Monday morning." Ms. McCabe let out a small breath as she shifted her gaze to me, as she took in the still calm look on my face. "And, two, I want Sora to keep dressing as he sees fit. It seems you don't have a problem with it, so we won't. Provided he follows the dress code."

"She." Ma practically snapped it, and the way her eyes seemed to light up in amusement when she looked over at me made me realize that I had said it too. She squeezed my shoulder. "And she will, right?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Good," Ms. McCabe said.

Then Ma was slipping her purse back over her shoulder and getting up from her seat, patting my arm as she did so. "Let's go."

I gave her a wide-eyed stare. "We're leaving?"

"Yeah, you have doctor's appointment anyway. Now's a good time; we won't get there late."

Well, this was the first time I heard of… Wait, no. Hadn't she mentioned something about picking me up from school today because of some doctor? I couldn't remember at the moment, but it didn't seem to matter either way. I was leaving school whether I wanted to or not. With a frown I glanced at Mrs. Mayo, who was now heading towards the door to return to class.

She just looked over at me and smiled in this knowing way before leaving the office. "You can make up the quiz on Monday, Sora. And nice talking with you, Mrs. Sabota."

"Take care," Ma called after her, even though she had barely spoken to my teacher at all. We would have left after that if it hadn't been for Ms. McCabe's sudden call.

"Mrs. Sabota."

The woman turned to my principal expectantly, bristling it seemed with the same energy from before. Ms. McCabe sensed that, took on a soothing tone as she spoke.

"We try to provide equal opportunity and treatment for all our students here at Glenston. I never want you to think I was singling Sora out for no good reason. Mrs. Mayo and I were just worried." She looked to me as she said this, and I could feel it. I could understand her worry—but I still wasn't happy about how it was handled. I still didn't think I should have been here in the first place… "We want Sora to graduate with all the ease as the rest of our students, and we were just thinking about his wellbeing."

Meaning, they were only thinking about what they thought would have been easier for me. The problem was, she didn't realize that I'd had sixteen years to figure out that their idea of easier wasn't working out at all.

All the same, Ma gave the woman a polite smile as she walked us out of her office and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I understand that, and I'm grateful for you looking out for my child. But with all due respect, let her be her."

"Of course. I apologize for the fuss."

"So long as we got it cleared up."

Then we were checking out of the info desk and walking out of the school's front doors toward the visitor parking lot. Ma still had her arm wrapped around me, with her purse smushed against my shoulders. I found that I didn't mind, though, since the woman hadn't really held me like this in such a long time.

She sighed when we settled into the car, the tension melting off at last. "That was the most civil argument I've ever had."

I laughed as she slipped her key in the ignition. "Ma, that was amazing! Like, really. You were like Super Mom in there, or something."

"You think?" Her lips were pressed into a lazy line, barely curving up, but I could see the smile in her eyes. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I've never heard you speak so openly about yourself like that. Not to other people."

Huh.

"Well…they made me angry," I told her with a shrug, like it was no big deal. "I mean, they kept asking me all these questions like I was high or stupid or something. '_Was it a bet, honey? A dare?_'"

"They thought someone dared you to wear a dress?"

"Yeah! Like I can't just put one on because I feel like it. It's like you said; there's a double standard. Not even that sometimes. There are tons of girls that get away with wearing spaghetti straps and flip flops and booty shorts, or skin-tight dresses and mini-skirts. No one ever says anything to them. They barely enforce the dress code. And she kept saying 'he' over again, like what I'd just told her didn't make any difference at all…"

At this point I was venting, but it felt good and deserved, and Ma didn't seem to mind. In fact, she found it so amusing that the thin line that was her mouth was curling into a full-on smile. This all seemed so natural that it almost scared me, you know? It seemed so normal for me to talk to her like this as a daughter to mother when, not so long ago, she wouldn't have wanted to hear a word of it. It was a nice change, if anything.

"Ma, thanks for that back there," I found myself saying after a while, meaning it more than she'd ever know. "Really."

"I wasn't about to sit there and let you get verbally attacked," she merely stated. "That's what mother's do."

"Still."

"Mm."

There was a moment's silence as the brunette thought to herself. The look on her face only grew more somber by the second when we came up to a red light, and it had me eyeing her warily. "You okay, Ma?"

"Just thinking…" Blue eyes met with mine, sending a slight ripple through my body. "Do you plan on wearing one of your outfits on Monday?"

"Yeah."

"And Tuesday?"

"And the rest of the school year. Yeah." I'd already made my mind up to do so in gym today, but I hadn't told her or Principal McCabe that. I'd planned on clearing out my old clothes once and for all and wearing nothing but the girl ones from this point on, regardless of who said it was okay. The fact that Ms. McCabe had just given me the go ahead was nothing more than a plus, not a prerequisite.

Ma seemed to sense that, nodding. "That's fine. You'd have to start eventually. I _had_ thought it would have been better to wait until next year. Or summer, even. But whatever you want to do, that's fine. Just…"

"Just what?"

She looked at me then. Really _looked_ at me, nibbling her lip. "I know I said all that stuff about double standards and letting you be you, Sora, but I can understand your teacher's concern. We have to think realistically. I just… Certain people are always going to hate for the sake of hating, so I want you to be careful. Don't think you're invincible because you're not."

Oh…

"But don't think you're helpless, either, baby. You can do what you do, just watch out for certain people. I'm not saying be paranoid, but be cautious. It's not this ideal world that I would like it to be. People get hurt, and people want to hurt. So please be careful."

"Yes ma'am." We grew quiet after that, in a way that felt uncomfortable to me. And so she wouldn't think that I was mad at her, I leaned over to her at the next red light and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Love you, Ma."

Her grin was identical to mine. "Love you too."

* * *

><p>I'll be honest with you. All this time I'd spent worrying about Riku—not that it was a bad thing; he needed someone worrying for him right now—and people at school and just handling <em>me<em> had me so preoccupied that I had put certain people on the back burner. Certain people like Rikku.

The last time I had spoken to the young woman had been on that night at that club, where she had had her first run-in with Cloud. Two weeks might not seem like a long time to some people, but when it was two weeks of silence between friends like Rikku and I, friends that called or texted or emailed or IMed each other every day, it seemed like forever. Dare I say I missed her bubbly, in-your-face-ness? Yes. Yes I did, very much.

That's why I was excited that following Saturday when I went to my support group meeting, fully clothed for some Tango and Salsa dance lessons that had been promised to us last meeting. (Never a dull moment with these guys. For a group of nineteen, we were very lively.) I was ready to dance, and I was ready to catch up with Rikku to find out what she'd been up to for the past few weeks.

I was in no way prepared to see her looking so stressed out when I walked into the meeting room.

She was sitting off in the corner, messing around with her flats and trying to look busy, but failing in hiding just how upset she looked. I was surprised no one else had noticed. Then again, most everyone else was either in the bathroom changing or fooling around with each other as they waited for the dance instructor to arrive. Too preoccupied to notice the glum blonde.

I walked over and knelt in front of her seat as she gave up with her shoes and tossed them aside. "Hey, what's with the long face?"

"Hm? Oh! Shoot, girl, when'd you get here?" She seemed to jump a little in her seat, but she shot me a strained smile that wasn't like her at all in greeting. "How you've been, Chilli?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She thought about it as I took a seat beside her, then heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Okay, no. I need your advice, Sora."

Uh-oh. It couldn't have been good if Rikku was coming to me for advice. Not that I doubted myself or anything, it was just I was usually asking her for her two cents, not the other way around. I guess she always seemed like she had everything figured out, so the thought that maybe she was having a problem with something never crossed my mind.

I braced myself, patting her lightly freckled leg. "What's up?"

"Okay, so you know Cloud? Duh, of course you know Cloud. But you know how Cloud and I hooked up a couple weeks ago?"

I arched a brow. "You did?"

"Oh, well I thought you knew," she mumbled, half amused, but she was quick to shake her head. "Getting to the point. We've been dating for two weeks now and it's great. You were right. He's a perfect gentleman and stuff, and he's sweet and funny, and we talk every frikkin' day for hours. Sora."

Her hands were insanely warm when she pressed them to mine and squeezed my fingers tightly. That's when I noticed just how excitedly she was talking, just how her eyes were lighting up right then in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than cute. She was giving a genuine smile for the first time that day, one that I had to return.

"Sora, I haven't seriously been with a guy in months. I really, really, _really_ think this thing with Cloud's gonna go somewhere. I like him, he likes me. We _click_, you know, and I haven't had that in a long time. With any guy."

"That's great, Ri," I told her with a squeeze of the hands. But my smile faltered. "So why are you so upset?"

She shrank a little then. No, shrank isn't the right word—what she did right then was _deflate_. Rikku didn't _do_ that, you know? She wasn't supposed to. She was supposed to be the bright and uppity one, not depressed like this. The blonde bit her lip, shaking her head. "Sora… I haven't told him yet."

It took me a moment to get what she meant. "You mean…that you're post-op?"

"Yeah… How'd you tell your boyfriend?"

I thought of Riku in that moment, realizing—fully realizing—for the first time just how lucky I was when it came to him. It dawned on me why Rikku was so worried, why there were others like her who stressed out when it came to dating… There was this fear of rejection. I'd never had to worry about coming out to Riku; he had already known. It seemed like ages ago when he'd first seen me at Myst—what was it, seven months? Close to that. We'd only started dating something like two months after that.

I told the blonde all of this, but that just seemed to stress her out more. "Sora, no offense, but you're too fucking lucky."

Something in her tone made me flinch. Frowns were exchanged as her eyes started to water, but I didn't take it offensively. I knew where she was coming from, and I leaned into her while calming saying, "Don't be like that, okay? Just be open with Cloud."

"Yeah, but—"

"It doesn't change the fact that you're the woman you say you are. If he freaks out and backs off after you tell him, then it wasn't meant to work with him in the first place. But if he gets over it and sticks with you, then it'll be fine."

"I don't _want_ him to freak out," Rikku snapped, pulling her hands away from mine. They felt cold all of a sudden. "I want to be up front about this with him, Sora, but I'm scared how he'll react."

"You've had your surgery—"

"Yeah, yeah, and I'm no different than a natural woman now. I know, I get that," she murmured, glancing around the meeting room as the others seemed to quiet down. "If I was pre-op, I would be ten times more worried. But that's not the point. I want to tell him without him focusing on the physical. I'm just scared…"

"Rikku."

She gave me this puppy dog expression when I said her name, shutting up instantly. Something about the tone in my voice… She looked close to tears.

"Rikku, if he likes you like he says he does, then it won't matter to him. Tell him."

I said this, yet he didn't know about our support group meetings. He still didn't even know about me, even though Rikku had claimed that he probably still had feelings for me. I doubted that—rather, didn't want to believe that—but I'd already said Cloud changed things drastically. I just hadn't realized it until now.

I hoped, for Rikku's sake, that Cloud was the kind of guy I thought he was. I hoped that he wouldn't have a problem with the transsexual aspect of Rikku's life. It didn't change who she was. It didn't change the attraction they had obviously had to each other that night. I hoped that Rikku would realize this. I hoped she could be lucky too, because she was my friend and she deserved it. I hoped things would work out.

"Hope's not enough, Sora," Rikku had said to me when I shared all my thoughts.

I found the statement strange, coming from her of all people. "If it's not, then what is there?"

And when she didn't answer the question and muttered something about going to the bathroom instead, I realized that something changed between us that I didn't like. It felt like when I had come out to Hayner. That divide. It seemed like… It felt like she was holding something back from me, but I couldn't be sure.

She gathered her things and left for the restroom. She didn't come back.

* * *

><p>So, here's the thing, it all started on Monday. I'd made good on my promise to myself and came to school with flattened hair; a T-shirt a size too large with black, blue, and red stripes; a denim skirt that flared out; and brand new black sneakers that I had bought purposely the day before. The red shoelaces looked fresh and everything.<p>

I walked down the hallways early that morning with my books in my purse—a rather large, almost satchel kind of bag that looked worn out but wasn't—instead of a backpack. I held a folder in my hand, filled with several copies of a notice I had typed out on Sunday for all my teachers. There were also copies of a faxed and signed letter from Dr. Whitfield and a short note from Ma stapled to each notice.

I went straight to the principal's officer first, gave her a copy of my notice and waited for her to read it over:

**My dear teacher/educator,**

**You may already know me well enough, but I still feel the need to introduce myself properly. My name is Sora Sabota, and I'm writing this letter to inform you that I'm going through a change. Though it may seem sudden, this change has actually been several years coming, and I feel the need to act now.**

**I am a transgender teen, and I identify as a girl. I do not wish to change my given name as I consider it unisex. I would, however, prefer to go by feminine pronouns instead, and I would appreciate it greatly if you could respect my decision. Attached is a letter with further explanation from my therapist, and a short note from my mother. If you have any questions regarding this, please don't hesitate to contact either of them or speak to me directly.**

**Thank you very much for your understanding,**

— **Sora**

Ma had checked it and rechecked it repeatedly on Sunday, making me rewrite it several times until she thought it was _just right_. Rox had even read over it and said it sounded professional enough.

"There'll definitely take you seriously," he'd stated with a light laugh. "It's perfect."

And I'd come in that morning at school with that mindset. This note was perfect, and things would be a little easier. Just a little.

Ms. McCabe had been in a sense of awe and shock when she finished reading it. "This is very good. Do you want me to sign it?"

"No, I have copies for my teachers."

"Well then, get on with you," she'd said whole heartedly, waving me out of her office with a smile. Unlike before, she didn't seem the least bit worried. It was a pleasant feeling. It was reassuring.

I wasn't worried or nervous when I approached the rest of my teachers throughout the day. I made sure to get to all of my classes a few minutes early to hand the notice to each teacher, and I always waited in front of their desk for them to finish reading before they reacted. There were a mix of reactions, ranging from highly amusing to downright infuriating. It was just four people, but each one had taken it differently…

Mr. Bauman hadn't recognized me at all when I walked in, nor did any of my classmates. Not even Selphie. But the moment he finished reading then rereading my letters, his slate colored eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open just a little bit. He'd adjusted his glasses and eyeballed my smiling face carefully. "Sora?"

Needless to say, the whole room went quiet and everyone stared at me in shock. That's when the whispers and murmurs started for the day. Selphie had made it a point not to say anything to me during algebra.

Second bell was Mrs. Grecio, Honors English 11. I got murmurs and whispers from my classmates there as well, but she had been quick to shush them up with a loud clap of the hands and her Stink Eye. (You didn't mess with Mrs. Grecio when she gave you the Stink Eye… Ever.)

She'd been exceptionally cool about the whole thing, stating how, "I knew there was something special about you all along, sweet pea. I just didn't know what. It's a good thing, though. I happen to have a niece going through the same, except she's in college right now. She's growing her hair like yours, too, started hormones last year…"

We talked for a while, even after the bell rang, and I could feel my classmates' eyes on me. But I couldn't contain my excitement, so it didn't really matter. Mrs. Grecio hadn't found it awkward or sudden at all.

Fourth bell hadn't been bad either. In fact, Mrs. Mayo had expected it. I wouldn't say she understood it, or that she thought it was okay. But she was kind enough about it and promised she'd try hard to use the proper pronouns. After Friday, it would have seemed rude of her not to.

No, it was third bell I had the problem. Gym. Coach.

See, Mr. Bauman had been awkward when I'd given him his note in algebra, but at least he hadn't meant any harm.

"It's the darndest thing, but whatever works for you. I've never seen anything quite like it—who'd have thought you actually look like a decent little lady?" He'd asked me. He had tried to joke, even though he'd been uncomfortable, but he'd been nice about it. That was just how Mr. Bauman was.

Coach, on the other hand, had been plain nasty.

I had pulled him off to the side of the gym, away from the students streaming in to dress out. I had typed up an additional note for him, requesting a transfer from the boys' gym class to the girls'. I wanted to switch locker rooms accordingly—or at least be able to change in a different restroom, since I didn't have an appropriate doctor's note yet. He eyeballed my papers with a hard expression. Then his golden eyes flicked up at me.

"So you're a girl now?" His voice was gruff.

I remained polite in spite of the way he was looking at me, folding my hands behind my back. "No sir. I've always been a girl, just in the wrong body. I'm transitioning."

"Why now?"

I blinked. "It felt like the right time."

"Ha. Look here, I don't know what kind of shit you're trying to pull—"

"With all due respect, _sir_, this is not shit." There was a strain in my tone now, and I felt the corners of my mouth tugging down. "This is an important life decision—"

"Life decision, changes, transitions, I get it," he interrupted. But he clearly did not get it, not with the way he was talking to me now. I don't think he realized he was raising his voice ever so slightly. "I don't know what this mother of yours told you, but you can't be mama's little girl. Plain and simple, son. You can play dress up, but there's no way to truly change what you are. Surgery or otherwise."

Was he kidding me right now? Was he really saying these things, and to a student no less? The worst thing about it was, he was talking to me like he was doing me some sort of favor. Like he was teaching me some life lesson that I had missed out on, one that he was kind enough to teach to me anyway The urge to slap him rose up in me so fast—but I didn't want to get suspended, and it wouldn't have solved anything.

But since he was speaking his mind, I spoke mine. Forget politeness.

"The thing about it, Coach, I already know you can't truly change what you're born with. Not entirely That's why it's called Sexual _**Reassignment**_ Surgery. And I don't know who _you_ think you _are_, but I really don't give a damn what you think on the matter. I'm doing it regardless. So you can let me 'play dress up' and be a grown up about it, or you can keep talking to me like I'm a doormat and I can report you to Ms. McCabe."

He wasn't budging that easily, though. "So you'd prefer to walk around as a butchered version of the sex you so desperately want to imitate? You have no shame in that?"

"Why should I be ashamed of anything?" I realized I was yelling now, and only then did Coach start to look uncomfortable. Only then did he start worrying who else would hear. He was glancing around the gym, eyeing the students that were coming out from the locker rooms warily, raising a hand to shush me. Those students were staring at the two of us curiously, murmuring. Some recognized me from my other classes. They passed the word on to their friends, who were now pointing and staring in shock or awe or disgust or a mixture of emotions.

I didn't care, I kept talking loud enough for the entire gym to hear me. "Why should I have to hide anything and bend over backwards so you'll be happy? If I want to switch over to the girls' gym class, then you should just be able to give me the okay and let me transfer over. I'd be out of your hair."

"Quiet down, Sora."

"No! I'm tired of being quiet. I'm tired of us _always_ having to be _quiet._ If you don't like it, then I can't help or change you, but the least you could do is have some common courtesy and treat me with some damn respect!"

"Preach, sistah!" One girl had yelled from across the gym. I couldn't tell if she was making fun of me or not, but she was waving her hands in the air and shaking her braided hair back and forth with this big smile on her face. Some of her friends started laughing and joined it.

"Testify!"

"Lay it on 'im, brother girl."

Then there were actual supporters that had been close enough to hear most of what Coach had said. There were the kids that had already heard the news, because word traveled fast in our school, and were genuine about their comments.

"Don't let him talk to you like that."

"Report his ass, sexist prude."

"Speak, Sora!"

Speak. That's how it started, that Monday evening in the gym. Students who didn't even know me that well and students who did; students who didn't really get what I was trying to prove, but thought I was cool; students who got exactly what I was trying to prove and understood; students who wanted to learn more about what I was trying to prove; students who just hated Coach's guts since the beginning of the year—they passed the word around school after class that day.

Yes, Coach made me dress out and participate in the boys' gym class anyway. However, the boys and girls were both outside walking laps around the track today, so it didn't really matter. Yes, there had been a good majority who called me names and continued to taunt and jeer throughout the day. Calls of queer and fag and sissy boy and other names that I'm sure these people thought were creative, but I ignored them. Other coaches kept shutting those students up whenever they heard what was said.

Yes, Seifer's friends did try to gang up on me—Seifer was surprisingly uninterested, silent, and separated from the group when they approached me—but Hayner stepped in. Hayner, four other guys, and six girls I didn't really know but were cool with. The eleven of them had formed a nice little barrier around me that day, and Seifer's gang (not surprisingly) backed off after three seconds. Pansies.

Yes, Hayner joked around and talked to me like nothing was different, like nothing had changed. The guys kept bringing up how I had basically "spanked" Seifer on Friday, and now Coach. They kept laughing and kidding around with me, saying maybe I had a pair of balls after all, even if I was gonna chop them off later. (Really, what?) The girls kept commenting on my hair and my makeup and, "God, Sora, you actually look really pretty!" One caramel skinned freshman joked, "I'd go lesbo for you in a hot second."

Yes, I had a good time. Not just a good time—I had a great time. In spite of the cold stares and the snide comments, this felt amazing.

Coach had dragged me out of class early, though, had made me change out. Then he took me to the office and into the principal's office to report my delinquent behavior. (Why he'd waited so long, I'm not sure.) He had told his side of the story and I had told my side of the story, and after speaking with a couple other coaches that had been within earshot, Principal McCabe decided to grant Coach a nice little suspension for the rest of the day tomorrow until he could cool his head. And learn to watch his mouth.

By the time I got in fourth block, everyone in school had heard that I'd gotten Coach Fern suspended. By the time I got out of class, word gotten out that a new fan club had been started by two of the girls from gym, in my honor. There was already a petition going around, passed on by friends and friends of friends, to have this club recognized and made official. I'd only heard about it from Hayner after school, on our walk home.

"It's called Speak, for transgender teens and their supporters" he told me amusedly, hands folded behind his hands, "Because of your little showdown with Coach. People are gonna talk about that until school ends, and then some."

"You think?"

"Hell yeah, Sora. It's like you started a revolution or something like that. It's insane." He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, unfolding it and handing it to me. "Look at this note. Some chick in my fourth bell handed it to me, told me to sign it if I was gonna participate."

In awed silence I examined the handwritten announcement. It had been decorated with various doodles of Hello Kitty and what I assumed was supposed to be Lady Gaga. I flipped it over to the back, scanning the couple dozens of names I saw listed. "People signed up to cross-dress tomorrow?"

Hayner just nodded at my whisper, grin broadening. "Bunch of guys were talking about borrowing their moms' or sisters' dresses and crap. The chick that gave me that note said she was gonna cut off her hair and wear a suit. This stuff is serious, Sora."

"That's… T-that's just…"

"Crazy?"

"Amazing."

"Crazy amazing, then."

I felt like crying. I had expected a reaction, but really… This was too much. I didn't think I'd get a reaction this big. It was really… I didn't have any words for it. All I could do was wipe at my eyes and stare at the big gel pen bubble letters on that paper.

**Speak!**

I'd started this. Hayner was right; it was crazy amazing.

We both grew quiet after that, just enjoying the comfortable silence and thinking about the day. It was a while before Hayner was looking over at me and muttering something.

I stared at him questioningly. "What'd you say?"

"I said…about the others. I told them to drag their asses to you and apologize for being MIA for so long, but they haven't done it yet." He didn't look at me as he said this, frowning.

I just nodded, shrugged. "If they need more time…"

"No. 'Cause I talked to them about this—like, a lot of times—and they keep saying they feel bad and shit. I get they're uncomfortable and whatever, but they shouldn't have left you hanging in the wind like that, so they need to talk to you. That's what friends do."

He was right. Even though I kept telling myself that Olette, Pence, Tidus, and Selphie still needed time to adjust, it really had stung when all contact with them had just stopped. Even Olette had stopped talking to me at lunch. The only person who'd kept hanging out with me—and not even a whole lot—was Hayner.

I wasn't about to hold that against any of them, though.

"They'll talk when they're ready to talk."

Hayner sighed, fell silent again. Then, after a while, he muttered something else.

"What'd you say, Hay?"

"I said you look kinda hot for a chick," he said quietly, unable to hide the redness of his face. And when I grinned like the Cheshire Cat, he added, "No homo."

It would take time for him to get used to it and to get it completely, but I laughed all the same.

* * *

><p>Riku's trial started today.<p>

I didn't get to go because it was during school hours, but it was the only thing I could think about all day at school that Friday. No, not even the taunting and what have you about my outfit from other students was enough to steal my focus. It was just the first day of trial, so I knew I couldn't expect too much. But damn, I wanted something to change, something big to happen. I wanted that woman locked up right now, regardless of what the court said. She was clearly guilty.

Why did there have to be such a fuss to put sleaze like her away?

I was all too eager when school ended, when I rushed home to Grams' and checked the news. Riku had doubted there would be much media coverage—since he was a minor they didn't want to give away too much of his personal information—but I checked every news channel I knew anyway, just to make sure. And when I didn't find anything, I checked my phone and sent a text.

'**Hey, just chcking on u. Is it over? Howd it go? Are u ok?'**

It seemed like ages before he ever answered. Grams, always a keen one, picked up on my anxiety when she got home from one of her friend's places that evening around six. She found me huddled up on the living room couch with some homework that I couldn't really focus on spread out in front of me. "Ya alright, Sunshine?"

Before I could answer my phone gave a brief jingle, and I hastily checked it. Riku.

'**Yeah, it ended an hour ago. U mind if I come over?'**

I looked to Grams then, perking up just a bit. "Is it alright if Riku comes over?"

She scrunched up her face even though I knew she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea—she was still a little iffy when it came to me and Riku, especially when I had him over, but she was surprisingly lenient about it. She liked him, and he was always sure to act super proper and polite around her. (It was the PDA she had to get used to.) She nodded before shrugging off her shawl and heading for the kitchen. "So long as he stays and helps cook dinner. You ain't dating no boy who can't cook."

With a smile I was quick to text him back. Not long after Miss Aerith had dropped him off, and she stayed to talk with Grams for a long time. Riku and I had already slipped off to my room by then, had settled on the bed to talk. He hadn't said anything at first. Then, without me asking, he started telling me all these things about the trial.

There was the arraignment, at which Larxene had pled not guilty. Then there was the whole other muck involved in pre-trial preparations, but Riku didn't really hear or know too much about all of that. Then he had only shown up for his part of the trial after all of that, so he didn't know what Larxene or any other testifier had said. He thought, maybe, this Sephiroth character had showed up. The teen had spoken to him just days before, but wasn't sure if he had changed his mind about the trial or not. Then Riku had just told his part of the story, answered the questions thrown at him, and went home for the day. They'd go on with part two tomorrow.

"Was the defense hard on you? Was her lawyer mean?" I asked.

He shrugged, staring at me but not really seeing me. He picked at a loose thread on my comforter. "He asked all the questions Ansem said he would. Kept trying to kill my credibility, but it wasn't that bad."

"What'd he ask you?"

Riku hadn't said anything right away. His hesitance made me worry, but he didn't sound as small as he looked when he spoke. "He kept saying things like, 'How do we know it wasn't consensual? How do we know you weren't having some love affair with my client?' Things like they had no way of knowing if I was lying for money or not."

"Money?"

"Yeah, they played the money card. Since I'm 'lower class' I'm desperate for attention and money, so I banged up some ritzy model and cried molestation," he spat out, lying down and rolling over on his side, back to me.

I frowned, lying down and curling up next to him. I wrapped my arm around and grabbed his hand, which he squeezed gratefully. "He's just doing his job. He's just trying to make the jury doubt you."

"I know… I just felt like shit up there," Riku sighed. "I'm not some liar or woman beater, but the jury doesn't know that. For all I know, they think Larxene's story's true or has some truth in it. Maybe, if I hadn't gone to her place so often—"

"Don't do that. Don't you dare do that."

I was tired of the self blame. There was no excuse for it on Larxene's part; she shouldn't have done what she did, regardless of the circumstances. It didn't matter if Riku thought he'd put himself in that situation or not. He didn't deserve it, he really didn't. I hoped things would turn around.

Then I was thinking about my other Rikku, about her harsh words three weeks ago. _Hope's not enough…_

So what? Did that mean it should be completely abandoned? Did that mean that hoping was wrong? Maybe I was being melodramatic about it, but again, so what?

"No matter what, you just hang in there," I said quietly to Riku, squeezing his hand back. "Okay?"

He didn't look back at me, but I already knew what kind of half smirk would be on his face when he replied, "That bitch isn't gonna make me back down anymore. I'll promise you that much."

"That's all that matters, then."

"I feel like this is a new start, you know? A different chapter in my life. Even though things still kinda suck."

"Not everything's suckish."

The teen rolled around to face me, breaking his hand away for just a moment. His nose practically brushed against mine when he rolled his eyes and settled his head on my pillow. "Your optimism borders on the naïve sometimes, you know that?"

I smiled back in spite of his words. "And that's a bad thing?"

"I wouldn't say bad. Just hilariously unfortunate."

"I will remain 'unfortunately' optimistic about your opinion, then."

His expression and smile were tender, and his eyes were sprinkled with more humor and amusement than I had seen in a while. It was something I'd waited to see for some time now, something so close to the old Riku before this all had happened. But I liked the new Riku as well, the gentler albeit more sensitive one.

He pressed his forehead to mine. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Mm."

Then he laughed after a moment and shook his head. "So cheesy. That sounded like something out of a fakey teen romance novel or something."

I laughed with him, not bothering to tell him that I happened to like the cheese and what we had wasn't fake in the least.


	23. The Climb

**Riku; My Faith is Shaking**

"You make sure you call me when you two are done, alright?"

"I got it."

"And if he takes you somewhere you're not comfortable with, or…or something, just… In fact, just text me every now and then so I know you're alright."

"Aerith."

"Are you sure you even want to do this? I mean, you've never met this man before and now all of a sudden he wants to come here and—"

"Aerith."

She stopped mid-sentence with a puppy dog stare and the words curling back on her tongue. It was times like these that the mother hen in her came out full force, and as annoying as I found it I couldn't help but be amused. She was just worried about how this day would go. Understandable. I would be picked early during school by Sephiroth, and we'd go somewhere for lunch. Then, if there was time, he'd either bring me back or drop me off home. (Home… It took some getting used to, but I was getting more comfortable with calling Aerith's place home.)

The woman narrowed her green eyes worriedly, pulling up to the entrance of my school and putting the truck in park. She looked over at me, gently rubbed my leg. I fought hard not to flinch, surprised that the desire to flinch rose up in me in the first place. She seemed to sense that and drew her hand back. "I just want you to be careful around this man, Riku..."

"I know."

"Not that you can't trust him. I mean, he's probably been through a lot of painful things. Just… This kind of thing affects people for life. Not everyone handles it the same way. Some people—not everyone, but some—end up repeating what was done to them with others…"

I understood what she was getting at—it wasn't like all of this hadn't crossed my mind the day before, when I'd first called—but something told me that Sephiroth wasn't the type of guy who'd go diddling little boys to cope with his trauma. If anything, he seemed like the type to bury it and pretend it never existed. That's what he'd been doing for nearly a decade. That's why I was still sort of surprised that he was willing to meet with me today…

We'd been wounded by the same woman, though, so didn't it make sense for us to try and patch up those wounds together?

"It'll be fine," I told Aerith after a long moment's thought, and I threw in a smile for extra measure because she still looked upset. "I'll call you immediately after."

"Please do. And text me, Riku. Every fifteen minutes."

"Really?"

"Really. Do it for the sake of my nerves." Her face meant business. It was almost laughable how intense the look she was giving me was, but I could feel her concern taking root deep down in my heart.

I rolled my eyes at her, all in good natured fun, but nodded all the same. "Okay, _mom_, I'll text you."

"I mean it, Riku."

"Promise."

She left it at that before letting me slip out of the car and driving off towards work. As cool as I tried to act about the whole thing, I was actually nervous as hell. That feeling never went away during my classes. I would keep peering up at the clock every few minutes in psych class, causing Rox to eyeball me curiously from across the room. ("You okay?" he had mouthed. I'd just sent him a strained smile and mouthed back, "Don't worry about it.")

I couldn't stop thinking about how much time was left before he'd show up, or what he'd look like. What would he say? What would _I_ say? Where would he take me? Somewhere in the middle of second block I found myself partly amused at how worried I was. I was almost as bad as Aerith. Plus I kept making it sound like some sort of date… It was just a simple talk.

Right? Was it really all that simple? I mean… I don't know what I expected. It's weird to think about a grown man and some young boy bonding over…over some fucked up experience, you know? It shouldn't be the case at all, but…

This would be a good thing, right?

"Mr. Lawrence, can you send Riku Prioletti to the main office?"

Everyone in my class paused when the ratty voice on the loud speaker rang in, and brief stares were shot towards me when I started gathering my things together before Mr. Lawrence could give me the go ahead. He didn't seem to mind, though, got up and picked up the phone on the wall. "He's on his way."

And I was walking briskly down the hall with a lump in my throat.

_You can do this. Don't freak out. It's just lunch. It's just a simple talk._

It dawned on me why I was so nervous, though, when I finally walked into that office. Why I was so worried, why I felt like this was a make it or break it type of thing. I wasn't sure if this would change things…

I wasn't sure if my talking with Sephiroth would change his mind about the trial.

What if he didn't care one way or another? What if he was apathetic to the point where he didn't care if Larxene walked out spot free or not? What if he didn't want to help? What if he just wasn't able to help, no matter what had happened to him? So many what ifs—

"Riku."

I stopped by the front desk, looking up at the man that had addressed me. He had finished up writing something on the clipboard in front of him—probably signing me out—before turning his cat-like eyes towards me. And I have to tell you, I felt a part of me freeze, if only for a moment, at how familiar those eyes of his were. It was eerie how much of Larxene I saw in them. (Had that always been the case?)

The man's expression was highly reserved, almost uncaring. Silver hair had been swept out of his face and over the side of his shoulder in a loose ponytail. It fell just below his waist, very much like a snake. Smooth and soothing, though. He was tall in his black jeans and matching long-sleeved shirt, with what looked like a black leather jacket slung over his shoulder. It was a wonder he wasn't sweating like a pig in that get up, considering how hot it was starting to get this time of year, but the look suited him. He was a handsome man.

I wondered what kind of expression I was wearing when I eyeballed him curiously and adjusted the strap of my bag. "Sephiroth."

He tapped a bony finger against the clipboard and regarded me silently before pointing out the door and mumbling, "After you."

* * *

><p>He didn't talk much. He hadn't said one thing when we walked out to the parking lot, and not when he unlocked his car and slid into the front seat. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't a little intimidated by his silence. Even now, on the road, the only sound was the dull roar of the air conditioner and some tune on the radio playing at a ridiculously low volume.<p>

I had no idea where we were going, but I figured it didn't matter since we were still in a familiar area. I'd popped out my phone and sent Aerith my first text and then set the device to remind me when fifteen minutes had passed. Then I just settled into the seat further, planting my hand on my cheek and my elbow against the window with a small sigh. "You're a man of many words, you know that?"

"Mm," was the only response he offered, which just caused me to eye him blankly.

"So?"

"So," he asked gruffly, still avoiding my gaze.

"Well, aren't you gonna say anything?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. His already narrowed eyes narrowed even more as we pulled up to a red light. He had a hand pressed to the side of his head as well, tilting his head closer to the window and letting out a breath. Then, after pulling his thoughts together, he replied, "I'm new to this."

I blinked. "Dealing with a teenager?"

"This whole situation."

Huh… Maybe I wasn't the only one with a case of the nerves.

We ended up going to some Italian restaurant out in town. It wasn't a place I hadn't noticed before on the few occasions I ventured out here by myself, but I'd never been inside before. It gave me an Olive Garden feel, except it was more casual and much more red. Everything cloth like uniforms, napkins, and table covers was red. And as small as the place was, it was pretty cozy.

Some quirky waitress that had recognized Sephiroth when we walked in had led us through the maze of round tables and busy lunch hour chatter to an empty booth near the back. The red head seemed familiar enough with the man to call him "Seph." I found it strange. You know, considering how perky she was. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who could handle a perky friend for very long.

She pulled out a small notepad and started jotting something down on it once we were seated. "Any drinks? No, I know what you want, Seph. You?" Her hazel eyes looked straight into mine, taking me a little by surprise.

"Um…"

"Get whatever you want," Sephiroth said.

I arched a brow at that, smiling just faintly. "_Any_thing?"

"No alcohol."

"Damn."

"I'll take that as water, then?" The waitress asked with a laugh.

I just nodded and settled with that. Then she was pointing to the menu beside my plate and telling me about some special soup of the day. Said she'd be back out in a couple of minutes to take my order. Then she mentioned something about getting Sephiroth his usual.

He called after her just as she turned to leave. "Cissnei."

"Huh?"

"Tell Genesis not the skimp on the shrimp this time, or I'll kill him."

She just laughed at that and walked off, though the look on her friend's face told me he'd been half serious.

I glanced at him as he pressed his elbows to the table and knit his fingers together, resting his chin on top. "Genesis?"

"My partner."

"As in…"

"Yes, my boyfriend." He paused long enough to study my reaction, probably to see if I'd be disgusted or surprised or something. He seemed mildly amused when I gave him a look that said I didn't care in the least about his preferences, and then continued. "His family owns this restaurant, and I come here often."

"Often enough for him to steal your shrimp?"

"He's an ass."

"So why the hell are you dating him?" I was chuckling as I said it, and that seemed to break the tense mood surrounding us just a bit. I'd long since transitioned from feeling awkward to just plain curious, and this strange silver haired man seemed to realize that. A very slight smile broke out on his face, and his features softened.

"We've been stuck together since we were in diapers. It's some twisted trick of fate, I tell you." Then with a sadder expression he added, "He was the one that made me go to the police, all those years ago… When he had finally pried the truth out of me he'd all but dragged me to the station and made me file a report."

We were quiet again. It seemed so strange…starting a conversation that was so personal out in the open like this, in a building filled with light hearted chatter and friendly voices. It felt weird to start a conversation like this.

I went right for it anyway, unable to fight back the choking feeling welling up in my chest. "Why… Why did you back off at the last minute? Why didn't you take the chance when you had it? You could have put her away. You could have prevented her from hurting someone else."

"I could have."

"You didn't."

His gaze was sharp and his voice was low. "There wasn't enough evidence."

"You don't know that," I said just as quietly. "If there hadn't been enough, then the police wouldn't have bothered contacting you at all after all this time."

"They still would have. Even if there was a slim chance I could have given them any new information, they would have taken it. After all, one percent is better than zero."

"Then give them that one percent." I found myself shaking my head at how stubborn he was sounding, at how argumentative he was being. I just didn't get it. "Why back out after you got started?"

There was a long pause followed by him clearing his throat. And at that moment Cissnei came back out with our drinks, a glass of water for me and a tall glass of some pink colored fruit concoction for Sephiroth. She took down my order, breaking the flow of our conversation, and it wasn't until much later when she brought our food out to us that Sephiroth finally spoke again.

He poked at his pasta with his fork, inspecting the shrimp—or lack, thereof—on his plate with a scowl as he quietly said, "The police searched her apartment and found a hidden camera in her bedroom. But no videos of that night. No tapes. Nothing. There were my clothes, but all that would have proved was that we had had sex."

"Not rape…"

He gave no answer. Instead this dark look entered his eyes—something he had probably wanted to keep buried rose back up in him, and he couldn't hide it now. He just took slow bites of his food without a word, caught up in whatever thoughts were racing through his head. I glanced down for a long moment, letting him stay silent.

I took a few uneasy bites of my pasta before looking back up at him. "How did it happen?"

The man took a deep breath, paused again. Took a drink from his glass and set it back down in a distracted way. Poked at his shrimp. His greenish eyes flitted across the room at another table before he made eye contact with me once more. Purposeful. "I was a sophomore in high school. Sixteen, going on seventeen. A friend of mine had snuck me into a bar, and that's when she'd sauntered up to me. Some random nineteen year old model just starts talking to me—what else could I do other than talk back? She had this…aura around her. Something striking and jarring at the same time."

"Beautiful but dangerous," I whispered, understanding exactly what he was getting at.

He nodded, stabbed at another shrimp with his fork. "Exactly. I got involved with her anyway. I was…reckless and thoughtless. The idea of being with an older woman was thrilling. Before I knew it, we were meeting on a regular basis, calling each other, emailing. Then it led to more."

"You loved her?"

"No." The immediacy of his answer shocked me. Or maybe it was just the stern way his eyes were staring at me, like I had offended him somehow by even implying that there had been love in their relationship. "There was never love; there was just sex and the comfort of having another body beside us. She bitched about her issues while I listened, and vice versa, and then we'd have a quick fuck session before her real boyfriend showed up."

"Mm…"

"There was never love. Not on my part, anyway. Maybe she just got off on screwing around with younger boys. Or maybe she had wanted something more, something romantic that she wasn't getting anywhere else. I'm still not entirely sure. But there had always been someone else for me."

"Genesis?"

"Right. She caught on after a couple months. Started going on about how I wasn't giving her the attention she deserved. Started saying things like, if she couldn't have me—all of me—then no one should. I don't know if she's still as wild now as she was then, but she seemed like she'd make good on her threat."

I frowned. "She threatened you?"

"She didn't want my 'little fag boy toy' sniffling around me anymore," the man grit out with the same amount of venom I could imagine in Larxene's voice. The more he spoke the more comfortable he seemed with sharing this, even if it was making unwanted emotions flare up in his eyes. "If I didn't cut him out of the picture, then she said she would."

"And…? You didn't leave him, did you?" Even though they were together now, that didn't mean they hadn't split up at the time. Especially if the woman had been even crazier back then than she was now…

He shook his head and took another sip of his drink. "I threatened her back. After all, _she_ was the one who came onto _me_ in the beginning. She was the one who could be locked up for getting involved with a minor. She was the one with the blissfully unaware boyfriend that I could have very easily turned against her."

"You sound just as manipulative as her."

"Maybe I am." He surprised me by admitting it, and even more so when he gave an almost smug grin. It seemed strained, though. "Our entire relationship had been based around control. Who got to control the other? She wanted to dominate every aspect of my life, my time, my body. I enjoyed the thought of being able to flip her life upside down at any moment. I held it over her, constantly."

He could have ruined her, especially if she had been starting out as a model. She probably hadn't gone to college, either—or, if she had, then she would have been balancing her job, classes, and this relationship all at once. She would have been living in constant fear that some boy, some boy just as manipulative as her, would spill the beans to her boyfriend. Or worse, the police. Someone who could have locked her up and gotten her in trouble. Her career could have been shot in a matter of seconds. She would've been barred from her school. Sephiroth could have done what I was doing now. He could have made it impossible for her to live in society with the stigma of pedophilia slapped on her back.

"So why didn't you," I ended up asking my next thought. "Why didn't you just end it when you could? What changed?"

"Do you have someone you love?"

What?

He disregarded the confused look on my face, though, kept going on like he hadn't just changed the subject out of the blue. "Do you have someone you love with your entire heart and soul? Do you have someone you'd die or kill for? Someone you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your life with?"

How would he… How did he know? The die or kill for part was a little disturbing, but Sora's face instantly came to mind all the same. It seemed and sounded a little sappy, a little idealistic. But it was only Sora that came to mind, and somehow he could see that I was thinking of her.

He sounded so matter-of-fact. "Now imagine that someone with the means and motive, someone like Larxene, promises you that she knows people who could take that person away. Imagine Larxene told you she was going to have that someone killed in cold blood, with no way to trace it back to her at all. Ever."

All of a sudden my throat was dry. "She couldn't possibly—"

"She has connections," Sephiroth all but snapped, setting his fork down and folding his hands together again. "I'd told her I wanted to end our relationship. I'd told her that there was someone else, that I didn't want to see her again. And after a while, she seemed fine with that. She'd said that she would find someone else. That I'd regret it. Two days after that, two men had followed Genesis on his way home from school and grabbed him. They beat him."

I was silent. Sephiroth went on, voice hard.

"They beat him into unconsciousness, to the point where he had to be hospitalized for three weeks. Then they disappeared and were never seen or heard of again. To this day the police have no idea who they were or where they came from. But I knew Larxene had sent them."

"How?"

"I just knew."

That seemed petty, even for her. It was crazy, even for her. It seemed messed up on a level that I didn't know she could be on. It seemed…so unlikely, so disturbing, and yet it had to be true. Otherwise he wouldn't' be telling me this now. He wouldn't have brought it up like this, like he was warning me.

I thought of Sora again. Thought about Larxene's words.

_You're paying for this, brat…_

She wouldn't…she wouldn't target Sora, would she? She couldn't still, after all these years, have those kinds of connections. Could she?

"I went to her apartment the night after Genesis was put in the hospital," Sephiroth said quietly, never tearing his cool gaze away from mine. All background noise ceased to exist then, and my focus was directly on him. I knew where he was taking this…

"I went to her apartment that night and I started yelling at her. I wanted to go to the police. I told her I would. But she treated me like some confused little boy who didn't know anything and kept trying to calm me down. I wouldn't listen. The moment I headed for that door was when she got scared. She realized I wasn't joking any more, that I would actually report her. So she grabbed a vase and she cracked me over the head with it. Next thing I knew… I woke up drugged and tied up on her bed, with…"

He stopped. Stared off at nothing in particular before slowly slipping his eyes closed. He gripped his hands tightly together. I didn't know what he was seeing in his head—not the whole picture. I didn't rush him, either, just let him take his time and find his voice again.

"She was on top of me having her way… She was on top of me and she was hitting me and scratching me and spitting on me, like some cheap _whore_, and she said I was lucky I was a good lay. Otherwise she would have been done with me a long time ago. She said she would have thrown me away a long time ago."

He couldn't look at me at that point. I didn't know if it was out of anger or shame or a mixture of both, but I still didn't say anything. And when he realized I wasn't saying anything, he continued.

"There's a tape of all of this somewhere. Or there was. She had it. I don't know where, but everything that night was recorded and she hid it somewhere. There's a tape of me being used like some…some fucking rag doll, and then being untied and tossed out of her fucking bed."

Why were my hands shaking? I took a small sip of water. Found it didn't help the dryness in my throat but took another sip anyway. Shook my head. "She…let you go?"

"When the drugs wore off, yes. Then she tossed her boyfriend's clothes at me and told me to get the fuck out." Here he looked at me once more, directly at me. Still sounding somewhat collected in spite of his words. "'If you ever tell anyone,' she said to me, 'I promise you your boyfriend will get more than just a death threat.' I didn't say a damn word to anyone after that. The only one who knew about our relationship had been Genesis, and he'd been in the hospital at the time."

Could she be that crazy? She had to be. But then maybe she'd changed in all these years, just a bit. Maybe she wouldn't pull the same stunt like that. Maybe… How the hell could he have kept quiet about this for so long? How could he stand it? How could anyone stand that for so long?

_What if it had been you?_ His eyes seemed to ask me that question even though he didn't say anything else. Almost as if he was reading my thoughts, trying to get his perspective across without struggling to find the words to say out loud. If it had been me… I probably would have acted the same way I had in the beginning. Maybe worse. If it had been me…

"You want me to sit in front of a jury and tell them about a moment of weakness," Sephiroth continued after a while. "After nearly a decade, you want me to bring up old memories that are best forgotten and tell them about a mistake I made when I was young and stupid."

"They won't see you as stupid. They'll see you as a man who's been hurt as a boy and finally standing up for himself," I whispered.

"They'll see a man who's weak and shameful. They'll see a man who got what he was asking for when he got involved with a woman like—"

"No." This…was very much like my conversation with Sora, when she had first found out the truth about Larxene. It seemed so familiar, talking to this man who even looked a bit like me. (Or maybe I looked a bit like him?) It seemed so frustrating, like when I'd first confronted him on the phone. How could someone not say anything when they had the right to? How could I have been like that not that long ago?

I shook my head at him, ignoring my food altogether. "No, you can't just dismiss it like this. You have to tell your story."

"And let a room of strangers inspect and pick apart my life, question my character, put me on trial?"

"She's the one on trial."

"But it won't feel that way. It'll feel like you're the criminal, like _you_ did something wrong even though you didn't. And there's no guarantee that it'll help anything. She'll walk. That's why I recanted and let them think my report was false."

"You'd rather have people think you're a liar than a victim?"

"Damn straight."

"The tapes—"

"What about the tapes," he snapped, causing me to flinch. He was letting his food go ignored as well, still had his hands folded together. "The tapes might not even exist anymore. The police might still have the clothes she kept from me and in her apartment, but that's it. There is _nothing_ else and there's no proving otherwise. It's just my word against hers."

"And it's mine against hers," I shot back defiantly. "It might not be enough, but it's something. It makes you feel better—"

"It doesn't un-rape you."

I grew quiet on that note, like he had just slapped me in the face or something to that effect. He sounded so cold when he said it that it was hard not to bite back with equally harsh words. I held in my initial response; that wasn't going to help anything. That wasn't what I came here to say to him…

So I took a deep breath and matched his gaze. "I'm not saying it's going to take back what happened. It doesn't. Nothing does. You can only learn to deal with it and move on with your life. What I'm saying is, you can make a change. You might not think it, but you can make a difference. So what if she walks a free woman? So what if it's humiliating and degrading? At least you would have faced her. At least you'd have taken a stand. You can show her you're not afraid of her anymore, that she doesn't control you."

He didn't say anything. I sighed.

"Even if you are still afraid, after all these years… She doesn't have to know that. She did worse to you than she did to me, and that's unforgivable. But not saying anything is just as bad." I picked at the table cloth absently. "You owe it to the other people she's hurt…"

And he still didn't say anything. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Maybe he just didn't want to talk anymore. I wasn't sure. But he was silent and taking another long drink from his glass, eyes wandering. He was reacting in the way I'd been afraid of. Maybe this talk wouldn't change anything…

Then, ever so quietly, he said, "I'll think about it."

The background noise seemed to rush back. Other people's conversations drifted in and out of my ears and the sound of dishes being moved around and glasses being tapped together filled the room. I relaxed a bit. "That's it?"

"That's it. I'm not making any promises." And he left it at that and continued eating, which wasn't what I had aimed for.

But it was just as well.

* * *

><p>Trial, day one. Friday, May 18th.<p>

They made me wait in a separate room, an office, while others were sworn in for their testimonies. Larxene would go first. They didn't want me in the same room as her yet, not even to listen to the lies she spun or the questions Ansem would throw at her on my behalf. Then it would be Paine, Marluxia, Aerith, a few neighbors from my apartment complex. Then me.

I know I said that the whole trial made things a little easier. Not completely better, but good enough for me to cope. It was helping me pick up the pieces one by one. But I felt fucking scared while I waited in that room with nothing but a television with three channels and an empty desk in front of me.

How would this go? Would Sephiroth show up? We hadn't been in contact since lunch on Wednesday, so I wasn't sure if he had changed his mind or not. Shit, why couldn't I calm down? And why the hell did I need to wear a damn suit? The tie was starting to choke me to death. I yanked it off and undid the top two buttons on my shirt after a few minutes.

"You're up, young man."

The bailiff had stepped into the room, watching me with gentle eyes. I stared at him a moment before letting out a sigh and following him down the hall.

The courtroom stunk of lemon-scented Lysol and bleach, like someone had scrubbed the place raw just hours before. This was a private trial, meaning there weren't many people settled in the benches behind the prosecution's and defense's tables. Funny. It all seemed like something straight out of a _Law and Order_ episode.

_Breathe._

I glanced at Aerith as I trailed behind the officer, and the woman just gave me a reassuring smile in response. I looked to Ansem who gave me a small nod. Noticed Paine and Xigbar—was that his name?—sitting on the bench beside them. Then Marluxia, whose eyes were trained on me the entire time. His face was unreadable. Then there were the calculating stares of the jury. I had to fight hard not to look at Larxene. Hers was the only gaze I felt etching itself into my skin. If looks could kill…

_Breathe._

I stood behind the wooden bars, right beside the judge's seat—this was real. A Bible was held in front of me. The bailiff's eyes were still gentle as he raised his free hand, motioning for me to do the same. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"You may be seated."

It's a bit of a blur after that. There was no keeping track of time, and questions seemed to run one into the other.

I remember clearly that Ansem had made me point out Larxene. Then he made me go over the story again. Which wasn't as hard a fifth time; I'd already told the story so many times, but it was for the jury's benefit. He made me describe my initial relationship with the blonde. Had she harassed me? How? How had it escalated to the point it did?

Then Larxene's lawyer stood up for his turn, and I swear I've never felt as much like a pile of crap as he made me feel.

"If she 'harassed' you so much, why did you keep going back? Maybe you craved her advances on some level?"

_No._

"Your relationship. This alleged assault. How do we know it wasn't consensual? How do we know you weren't having some love affair with my client?"

_Fuck, no._

And he spun other questions that Ansem had warned me against—"Just tell the truth and be yourself. And stay calm."—questions that pushed all my wrong buttons.

"You say you were only interested in the money she paid for your pictures, but maybe the money was for something else. Sexual favors?"

_No!_

"She pays and pays until she doesn't want to cough up the cash any more, and that makes you mad. A lower class, jobless teen such as yourself needs that kind of money. So would you say it's possible you spun this tale of sexual assault to coerce her into paying you some more?"

"That's not it," I'd snapped.

"And then you physically _attack_ her and beat her into hospitalization for weeks when she _still_ refuses to give you money."

"That's not what happened."

"She was afraid of what else you'd do to her, so she chose not to press charges. Look at your handiwork. Look at her."

I did, if only briefly. And she was a damn good actress, because she had the most _fragil_e look on her face, like she'd crack under pressure any minute. Her arm was still in a splint and the bruises on her face were still very visible in spite of her makeup. She looked like a battered wife…

I looked away. "I made a mistake hurting her… But it wasn't over money, and it wasn't over some love affair. There never was one."

"But how do we know, Mr. Prioletti?" He'd asked it with a half smirk on his lips and this look in his beady gray eyes that told me he already knew the truth—but the jury didn't. No, if he could make me out to be the bad guy, if he could plant even a small seed of doubt in their heads, then it didn't matter what the truth was. I wanted to rip his dick off.

Then he walked away on that note, stating he had no further questions for the moment.

_Breathe._

* * *

><p>"Is the bitch locked up yet?"<p>

"Blunt, aren't we?"

"Well, is she?"

I'd been on the fence about telling Kairi and Naminé from point blank, and I had made sure to keep all details of the trial out of our conversations. Somewhere along the line, though, they had found out on their own. They just hadn't told me until that following Wednesday. The three of us were wandering around the mall that night, not really ready to go home even though the whole place would be closing up in an hour or two. Not really hanging around in any one store for too long. Then, all of a sudden, Naminé had mentioned Larxene. As surprised as I was by the fact that she brought it up, I had immediately known what she was talking about and answered back.

"How'd you two know, anyway?"

"Roxas told us," Kairi said. And when I gave her a questioning stare, she shot me a knowing grin. "Sora told him first, and he came to us and gave us a heads up a couple weeks ago."

"When'd you plan on telling us?" Naminé asked quietly.

I just shrugged. We wandered into some clothing store on the second floor—it might have been Aeropostale; I hadn't been paying attention when we slipped inside. My hands found their ways in my jeans pockets as we came to a stop by one of the racks, and Naminé started holding up random shirts in front of me like some mother picking out an outfit for her son. "I was gonna tell you when the trial was over…"

The blonde pulled out a sky blue T-shirt, which I promptly snatched and examined for myself. "When's the trial over?"

"Saturday. We're on day six, three more to go."

"How're things looking so far?"

"It's…looking okay."

Kairi arched a brow, shuffling through some of the tank tops on sale. Her blue eyes were trained on me in a worried way. "Just okay?"

"There's not much evidence to go on. Our stories don't match up. On one hand I'm a victim and she's a pervert, and on the other she's a perfect saint and I'm the spawn of Satan. Right now the jury's too stupid to figure out which is which." My words came out a little harsher than I had meant, but they didn't seem too fazed by it. A sigh escaped my lips and I set the T-shirt back on the rack before following the girls towards the shoes on the other end of the store.

Truth was, after six days, I just wanted this whole thing to end. It was getting to the point where I was tired of the wait and tired of the passing of news from one person to another. I was sick of being one of the last people to know the whole story and game plan, and I was tired of having to coming in every other day just to repeat myself to a room full of strangers who saw me as some delinquent.

I was sick of thinking about it all, really. Nothing was getting _done_, or at least it didn't seem like it. And I still didn't know much about the other people involved. I was still just coming in for my parts, or not coming in at all when it wasn't require. Did they not think I could handle hearing what others had to say, what _that woman_ had to say? Or did they just not want me to know? Did they think it'd be better this way?

Every day I'd worry about what Larxene was thinking, what she was doing or planning. I kept thinking about the story Sephiroth had told me. I kept thinking about Larxene's threats and her connections and her money and Sora and— She wasn't crazy enough to do something to Sora. Was she? She wouldn't repeat the past thinking she'd get away with it again, would she?

I pushed those thoughts from my head.

Then there was Sephiroth. We'd talked just once, just briefly, about what outcome we expected from this. He'd let slip yesterday that he was going to speak tomorrow, which had brightened up my day on so many levels.

"Don't get too damn excited, though. Don't expect any miracles from me," he'd said sternly, but that hadn't ruined my mood any. He was going to speak. That was a start.

_But does it truly change anything?_

Ugh… I wanted this trial to be over.

"What you need," chirped Kairi, "is something to take your mind off of things. We could do another double date, you and Sora, Nam and me."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Beach?"

"That actually sounds fun."

"It's settled!" Naminé hooked her arms through either of ours, stringing us together into a human chain and leading us out of the store. "It should be a weekend, though. God, I can't wait until summer."

And my phone started ringing before anyone could say anything else. I paused for a moment. It couldn't have been Aerith; she'd agreed to pick us up when _I_ called _her_. Unless she had changed her mind. So who else was calling me at nine-thirty? My brows were knit together when I pulled it out of my pocket and eyed the tiny screen.

Roxas.

What'd he want?

Naminé seemed to be thinking the same thing because she leaned over enough to see the number on my screen and made a knowing sound in the back of her throat. "Answer it, Lover Boy."

I ignored her and pressed the talk button. "What do you want, Blondie?"

"Where are you right now?"

Whoa, hold up. Why did he sound so frantic? He had spat the question out so fast, almost demanding with his tone. Shaky. It was a far step from the usual snippiness I expected from him whenever it came to me. This didn't seem playful in the least.

I paused for a split second before asking, "Why do you need to know?"

"Axel and I can come pick you up—"

"Pick me up?" Kairi and Naminé were shooting curious glances my way at my sudden question. I shook my head, going from mildly peeved to wary. What did Axel have to do with anything? "Roxas, what the hell is wrong?"

He was talking way too fast for me to understand a word he was saying. His words were bumping into each other, going through one ear through the other and just increasing my confusion. It was like he forgot how to breathe or something, and I didn't like it. He sounded too upset, too…not like himself. What the hell? "Okay. One, slow down. Two, tell me what's wrong?"

His response made my blood run cold.

"Sora's in the hospital."


	24. Dance Hall Drug

**Sora; Don't It Feel Like Something's Not Right?**

"Yo Princess, I think you dropped a little something."

"Gross, man."

"He must have a heavy flow."

Shit. Shit. Just _holy shit_, I hated everyone right now. How did people keep breaking into my locker, _anyway?_ What the hell?

These kinds of things had been going on since last week. Crude drawings or notes taped to the walls. Calls and taunts in the hallway. Middle fingers as I passed by. Whispers and crumpled up hate mail tossed at me during class when teachers weren't looking. Stares, glares, scowls and frowns. I _dealt_ with that pretty well, I thought. Just turn the other cheek and eventually people pick up on the fact that you aren't bothered in the least. Eventually they'll stop and leave you alone. Plus I had the other students in _Speak_ sticking by me, still petitioning to make our club official. I was handling it.

That didn't mean I wasn't getting tired of it. And really, I was tired of it.

Monday, the week after Riku's trial began—it was still going on from what I'd heard—someone had thought it would be funny to take their pranks to a whole new level by filling my locker with tampons. Heavy duty tampons. Literally, to the brim, to the point where the moment I opened the door they all cascaded down onto the tiled floor and pooled at my feet. It was a flood of bright orange and white plastic that made me freeze completely.

"Is it that time of month, Princess?" Some boy passing behind me had cried out, his voice echoing in the hallway. There weren't a whole lot of other people in the hall with us—maybe a couple dozen heading to their next class—bit most of them either laughed or smirked at the boy's comment as they walked by.

I felt heat rush up in my face, and I spun around to say something to him. But he was already gone, leaving me with an angry scowl on my face. I had to count to ten in my head and squeeze the strap of my purse before walking further down the hallway and dragging the large trashcan in the corner back over to my locker. There was a good five minutes or so before the bell rang, so I figured I had enough time to clean up this stupid mess without being late to class.

The talk behind my back continued. There was harsh laughter and crude jokes as the stream of students rushing last minute to their classes increased. Some people even kicked at the tampons as they passed, spreading out the mess, trampling on it. A few stopped for just a couple seconds to throw away some of them for me before rushing to their next class. Most people tried to ignore me.

_I hate this._

The stream of students died down again to only a few stragglers. A group of three girls slowly approaching my locker from the far left end of the hallway, and one scruffy blonde senior (or junior?) coming down the opposite end and slowing down in front of my locker. He gave a shrill whistle behind my back, causing me to look over my shoulder at him. Then he smirked, swiftly kicking over the trashcan and its contents onto the floor, and he walked away with this amused looked as I glared at his back. I couldn't move, as pissed as I was.

Those three girls—I wondered if their color coordinated outfits of apple green and beige had been intentional or not—were laughing without conviction as they stopped by my locker. A short, dark haired girl with brown eyes and heavy makeup. A curvy, top heavy brunette with a mean smile. And their ring leader, some cookie cutter blonde cheerleader type who was in the girls' gym class the same time my gym class was in session.

I ignored the three of them as they eye balled me, instead picking up the trashcan and cleaning up the mess that had been so kindly knocked around for me.

_I hate this._

"You're gonna be late to class, Barbie," Dark Hair said, pulling on the trashcan towards her just a bit.

I yanked it back, still picking up the leftover tampons.

Ring Leader scoffed, grabbing three clean ones off the floor. She held them out with a sly look on her face. "Mind if I borrow a few? It's not like _you_ can use them anyway."

_That's it._

"You think you're cute, don't you," I snapped, glaring daggers at the three of them. They were no better than some of the idiots in the locker room.

Her own eyes narrowed. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Cuter than you."

Cold stares. Scowls. She tucked the tampons in her purse before taking a few steps towards me. Even in her heels, I was a couple inches taller than her, but she didn't seem fazed.

Her voice was low. "You think you can prance around here like some fairy princess and expect everyone to play along. I'll tell you what, though, you're just setting yourself up to be a freak. What, you can't get any dick as a guy, so you're gonna pretend to be a girl instead? Like anyone's gonna _want_ you. Fact is you're just kidding yourself. I don't know what you're trying to prove, but you might as well—"

"I'm sorry." At this point I had already cleaned up most of the mess. I'd set my bag inside my locker before throwing away the very last of the tampons, pausing in front of the trashcan long enough to shoot the blonde a mock innocent look. "Are you still talking?"

I felt ten times more spiteful than I'd ever been, ten times angrier. Ten times more hurt. But I wasn't sorry about it. As much as her words bit at me, as much as I felt like screaming in her face that she was wrong, as many bad memories flooded back into my mind—I didn't regret my attitude.

Then she slapped me.

It happened so fast that I hadn't realized it had happened at all until I felt the sting of pain in my cheek. Not until one of the girl's friends let out a surprised gasp when she realized what had just happened as well. Not until the other friend jumped in front of the blonde and pushed her out of the way, screaming something, voice shaky. And I guess I must have snapped or something and looked like I was about to jump her, because they all looked scared right then. I didn't know what kind of look was on my face, but they looked freaked out and…

"Don't! Don't, Sora, just cool it!"

My hands hadn't grabbed at blonde hair like I'd wanted. Someone's hands were on me. Who…? Small hands. Someone was holding me back, pressing me against the other lockers, and they were saying something to those three girls but I wasn't sure what. At first I tried to push the stranger away, tried to lunge at the girl again, but the way this person was gripping my wrists made me stop long enough to calm down. Those three girls were scrambling away by the time my desire to hit something subsided.

"Easy, Sora. Hey, you hear me?"

I blinked, genuinely confused by the voice addressing me. Stared at the long haired brunette who was still holding me down and examining my face with narrowed eyes. "Um… You can let go of me."

She pursed her lips, slowly moving her hands away. "You're not gonna fly into a blind rage, are ya?"

"No."

"Good. 'Cause that would just suck. Imagine if you'd hit that bitch, huh? That'd just _give _her a reason to report you, and then what? That'd just ruin the cause, if you ask me." She said all of this while pulling out the lilac scrunchie in her hair, letting it all fall down to her waist, before fixing up her ponytail again. There was just an air of familiarity and friendliness in her tone that my anger from just seconds before was mostly forgotten. Then the bell rang, reminding the two of us that were late. Great.

I didn't say anything right away, just stared at the trashcan half filled with tampons now, before letting out a deep breath and shaking my head. Somehow, I couldn't stay angry at this stranger for stopping me. "It's ridiculous..."

"Haters gonna hate. Just—" I felt her nudge me on my arm as I turned back to my locker and grabbed my purse and books. "Just don't snap again. We don't need you getting in serious trouble over this."

"She hit me first."

"You know that. I know that. But that don't necessarily mean anything, ya know?"

I hated this.

Why was it so damn HARD for someone to come out without a giant backlash? Was it really so difficult for people to just leave you alone and let you be you? And I knew it was because not everyone got it, not everyone felt the same. Not everyone had the same beliefs, and that was fine with me. I could respect that. But when students started acting with so much hate and blatant disrespect, and for no good reason, when I wasn't hurting them in the least—

It wasn't right. I knew I had _Speak_, and I knew there were others who'd give support whether they were in the club or not, but it seemed like such a small number when compared to the number of others who were just spiteful.

_I hate this._

"Just hang in there, Sora," the stranger told me gently, smiling.

I closed my locker, sighing, slowly starting down the empty hallway with her walking by my side. And in spite of myself, I gave her a small smile. "I'll be fine; I just need to keep it together. So thanks, um…"

"Megara. My friends call me Meg. At least they would if I had any friends."

I couldn't help but laugh at her bluntness, her coolness. She just seemed so down-to-earth about all of this. There was a lazy grin crossing her lips before she started laughing too, and as we walked I started feeling so much better that the other events of the day up to this point didn't matter that much.

We were late to class. My locker was still pretty much open to whatever other prank someone could cook up. I'd nearly blacked out and beat up some random girl earlier, which was just so…so unlike me. There was still the thought, in the back of my head, that maybe this whole struggle wasn't worth it. People were still going to talk about me. The teasing would probably get worse. I wouldn't be able to change everyone's mind, no matter how hard I fought back.

But I didn't care. It was fine. I could do this, if not just for myself, then for others. This was fine.

Meg and I talked as we walked, wasting even more precious class time. Not that we cared. She wasn't part of _Speak_, but one of her friends had joined a day after it was first formed. This friend had said something about finally having the guts to call their sister their "brother" instead. Meg didn't know him, but her friend had always told her about him and their family. How, like mine, they hadn't quite understood. ("She's only now learning about it because of you, Sora. A lot of people are. You'd be surprised how many people sympathize, or are going through themselves…")

It'd only been three weeks since all of this had started, and yet there were so many changes going on that I didn't really know about. Behind the scenes. So it was refreshing hearing about all of it, you know? Like I was getting some sort of confirmation that this wasn't _all _bad, that there were people who (in a sense) _needed _me to continue dressing up so that they'd know it was okay to do the same when they were ready. That it was okay, because I wasn't the only one. The feeling reminded me of when I had first gone to my support group meeting.

_It's okay._

Meg and I only stopped when we came to an intersection between two hallways. I clutched my books to my chest, giving her a grateful smile. "Thanks a lot."

"You've got people standing behind you no matter what. Just don't mess this up by getting suspended or some crap, alright, 'cause you're giving people hope." She patted me on the back before heading down the other hallway with a wave. "You're gonna be alright, Sora. Cute shoes, by the way."

* * *

><p>"It's just been rough lately, and things are looking up, but I just feel like something's off. I just… I don't know, I think it'll be easier once…"<p>

"Once you actually start your hormones and get your surgery, right?"

I squirmed in my seat, staring at my feet. My meeting with Dr. Whitfield felt a little uncomfortable that Tuesday, like I was out of place in her office somehow. I couldn't explain it, but I wasn't very happy that day. Just tired and annoyed by every little thing going on at school, or by some of the things done or said at home. Not that Grams, Ma, or Rox were doing or saying anything worth getting upset over—I just had a short temper these days. It worried me…

"I just seems like all of this isn't really worth it," I continued quietly, leaning back in the sofa and crossing my legs over its cream colored edge. Dr. Whitfield's golden eyes watched me carefully. "I'm making all these changes for myself, my body, and my life's been improving. But then other people around me are either falling apart or are against me for some reason I don't understand."

"Explain."

"I mean, I should be happy. I'm getting along with my family for the first time in years, we're talking openly. I'm making new friends because of my transition. But so many people at school are being hateful towards me and others for the sake of being hateful. My closest friends, save for one, are still avoiding me like the plague when they're the ones who are supposed to have my back. A friend at my support group is mad at me, maybe even jealous, and I don't know why. And my boyfriend is on trial…"

"Trial? Did he do something?"

I shook my head, quiet for a moment. The woman waited patiently until I found my voice, which was even quieter than before. "He… Some woman molested him a while back."

Her eyes widened for just a second before she took on a solemn expression and knit her fingers together. She pressed them to the top of her desk, frowning. "Hon, I'm sorry to hear that."

"He's been taking it a lot better lately, and the trial's going to be over soon. I can tell it still bothers him, though. Just everything going on with him…" My eyes wandered as I spoke, to the bookcase, towards the window, eventually settling on a silver truck pulling into the parking lot. "I've been doing everything I can think of for him, but I don't know if it's good enough. What else can we talk about? How else can I help him? Every time I ask, he just brushes it off and says to focus on my life."

"Just the fact that you there is probably enough for him."

"But what if it's not for me? What if I want to do more?"

She paused and then said, "You can handle yourself better than you used to, but you can't do the same for the people you care about. You feel helpless."

It was a statement that I found I agreed with more than I liked to admit. She was right, when I thought about it. Maybe I was just so frustrated because it felt like I couldn't do much for the people around me.

People at school were pissing me off. Rikku seemed snippy and too busy whenever I called, emailed, or texted her. Hayner was the only one out of my other friends still talking to me; the rest were either still too weirded out or unsure how to handle my change. I could only just sit back and wait for the results of Riku's trial, and even he wasn't sure if it would turn out well. Most of all, though, I was tired of waiting.

I wanted to start hormone therapy now, but I was a couple months (at least) away from doing so.

I wanted to stop being picked on.

I wanted my surgery.

"You think life after your surgery will be perfect?" Dr. Whitfield asked, as if reading my mind.

"Realistically? Maybe not…but by then I should be somewhere else in college, ready to move out on my own and start fresh. All the medical and legal work will have been handled and I won't have to worry so much."

"You picture that life more worth living than the one you have now."

She had a knack for stating things that seemed more like questions than anything else, stating things that made me think more than I usually would. That was one of the things I loved most about the woman.

"It's stress," I admitted, slipping my eyes closed.

"That's perfectly normal. It's a healthy level of stress."

"I don't like it."

"What you need to understand, Sora, is that you're not a miracle worker. You're starting to reach above and beyond, but you still have limits." I opened my eyes and sat up when I heard her voice get closer. She was up on her feet, heading for the couch across from me and taking a seat. Her tone and expression were almost motherly. I sat up as she added, "It's okay to want to help people, but you can't blame yourself when their lives aren't going as great as yours."

I knew that. But still… "So what do I do?"

"I think you need to take this anxiety and negative energy and use it to do something positive."

"Like?"

"What are you good at?"

"Dunno…"

She gave me a knowing grin. "Everyone's good at something, Sora."

I thought for a moment, pulling out the first thing that popped to mind with a shrug. "I like cooking, I guess."

"And that makes you happy?"

"Yeah, but I'm not great at it." I chewed my lip a bit, brushing flattened hair out of my face. (I wished there was a way to permanently flatten it. The spikes my hair settled itself into every three or so days were starting to annoy me.) "I used to work in a tea house, and sometimes I'd bake there."

"Then maybe you need to find a similar job. Or you could try cooking at home, if it calms your mind. It could help you unwind and put some smiles on your family's faces during meal times. If you wanted you could even invite your boyfriend over to cook together, like a date."

Right then the weirdest image of a scowling Riku in a pink apron and oven mitts flashed into my head, and I couldn't help but giggle at the thought of him fumbling around the kitchen. Could he even cook? I wondered how I'd ask him about it, too. _I wanna bake cookies in my grandma's house; you think you'll be up to it?_ Yeah… Weird.

I smiled all the same, causing Dr. Whitfield to eye me in amusement. "You really think that's going to work?"

"If it doesn't, then you can move on to the next best thing. It'll give you some sense of control and something productive to do." She got up and walked over to her bookshelf, browsing for something. When she picked out the book she was looking for, she came back and held it out for me. I stared at it curiously before taking it. A cook book.

She gave my shoulder a light squeeze. "It's a start."

* * *

><p>I'm not much of a party person. Even though I'll go to them every now and then and try to enjoy myself, I'd rather avoid them if I can help it. Dancing's fun and all, but it's not enough to have me out every weekend, you know? There was a party on Wednesday night, though, and Rikku had called much earlier in the day to invite me to it.<p>

"So, yeah, if you're free tonight… It's at Zack's friend's place. I can come get you around six, if your granny says it's okay," the blonde said over the phone, uncharacteristically quiet.

I was lying on my bed, resting on my back and staring at the ceiling. I adjusted my cell closer to my ear, silent for a moment. "It's a house party?"

"It's not gonna be a butt load of people—well, it shouldn't be. It's a biggish house and his parents are out of town."

"So your typical teenaged house party."

"You know how we do." I heard the slight laugh in her voice, which just made me smile. Then she added, "It'll be Zack, Tifa, you, me…and Cloud."

A pause. "How're things with you and him?"

It was a sore spot with Rikku, I knew. In fact, this had been the first time I'd spoken to her for more than a couple minutes in weeks, so I hadn't been entirely sure if it was okay to bring it up. Her and Cloud had only been dating for maybe a month, but she seemed to really, really, _really_ like him. And I couldn't get the way she'd snapped at me at that one group meet out of my head…

"I finally told him." Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I took in a small breath. "How'd he take it?"

"Surprisingly…very well, actually. I mean he was a little confused at first, but after we sat down and talked about it he seemed very chill."

So why did she still sound so…meh about it? This should have been a good thing, right? Unless there was still some uncertainty between her and Cloud, unless they were fighting for some unrelated reason. Or… Maybe it might have been…

"Don't worry about it, Chilli Bean," Rikku said brightly after a moment of silence, sounding more like her old self. "You worry about me too much."

"Is there a reason to worry?"

"No, it's fine. I just wanted to make it up to you for last time, so can you make it to the party or no?"

"I'll check with Grams."

"Call me back when you do, bubby."

And I had. Grams hadn't been too crazy about me going out that night. ("It's a school night. What's she thinking, dragging you out so late? And whose house is this? Who's supervising this?") But after hours of sweet talking and a few not-so-white lies, ("His parents are gonna be upstairs the entire time, Grams. No, no alcohol. Yes, it's just a few people."), she relented and agreed to let Rikku take me. So long as I was back home and in bed by ten, ten-thirty at the very latest.

"I mean it," the woman had sternly warned to an amused Rikku later on that evening when said blonde finally dropped by to pick me up. She had Cloud, Tifa, and Zack waiting for us in her car. "And the five of ya had better stick together all night, ya hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You call me on your way home, Sora."

"Yes ma'am."

Then we had gone on our way, slightly giddy about the events to come. I sat in the backseat beside Tifa and Zack, who seemed more like brother and sister than a couple, laughing at some of the jokes they made and adding comments of my own every now and then. Rikku drove a bit tense with an equally stiff and silent Cloud sitting next to her. It was hard not to notice…but I tried not to think too much about it.

I wanted to come to the party mostly because Rikku had been the one to invite me. I didn't like this…this weird disconnect we had going on, and I wanted to come out and enjoy myself with her and the others. At least for one night. I wanted to know that her snapping at me weeks before had just been because she was having an off day and that she was still okay, still the same bubbly person I'd come to know.

But her silence, Cloud's silence, felt very unsettling.

I tried not to think about it too much.

The house was biggish, just as Rikku had stated. Nothing too out of control by the time we arrived. There was a multitude of cars lining the neighborhood's streets to the point that we actually had to pull around the corner of another house to find a parking space. We hiked up to a front lawn of half a dozen teens (most my age, some a few years older) sucking on cigarettes and blowing smoke into the early night air. The music blared from inside, already giving a steady thrumming feeling in my chest and feet. It was even livelier inside.

Contrary to what was originally intended, there _was_ a butt load of people at the party. Dozens and dozens of bodies were pressed together, dancing, flirting, hopping about here and there in the mess of furniture and ornate hallway decorations. Voices carried, laughter met our ears. Lights were turned down low but not to the point where one couldn't find their way around.

There were high school students close to graduating and college students who'd probably just graduated from high school not that long ago. People trailing up and down the carpeted stairs, or into the hallway, or out towards the backyard where the pool was. There was brightly colored juice and what I assumed were alcoholic beverages (no thank you) in plastic cups set out for guests in the kitchen. There were couples and complete strangers smushed on the couches kissing and making out at their leisure, regardless of who was around or who saw. It seemed like too much at first, but it wasn't that bad once we walked around for a bit.

No one quite knew who this friend of Zack's was or if he was even in his own house, but that didn't seem to matter much to anyone. In spite of how wild everything seemed, this was actually a somewhat tame party. Compared to what it could have been, you know? At least no one was streaking or busting up furniture…

Our group split to enjoy themselves, but everyone was still within view. I didn't dance, didn't talk to too many people, didn't really do much of anything other than stand off to the side and just nibble on the hand sandwiches that had been set out in the kitchen. (The _vultures_ hadn't eaten all of them, thank God.)

I wanted to enjoy myself, but… Somehow it didn't feel right. For some reason my mind kept going back to how tense Rikku and Cloud had been in the car. It didn't make sense. I knew Rikku had said not to worry, that things were fine, but it definitely didn't seem like it.

Maybe that was why I kept an eye trained on the two of them most of the time? Maybe that was why I found myself watching how the two blondes didn't really dance but talk to each other the entire time. And it was different than how they had acted around each other when they first met; neither had a pleasant expression on their face. Neither looked like they wanted to talk. At some point Rikku picked up her purse and slowly made her way towards the staircase in the hall, leaving her boyfriend pausing mid-sentence with a frown. Cloud wasn't having it. He followed her.

I followed them both.

Weaving through the crowd of people wasn't difficult; it was getting up the stairs without either of them noticing me that seemed a bit tricky. There weren't many people on the second floor—six teens chatting or goofing off—so it would have been incredibly easy to notice me tiptoeing behind them. I had to duck into an empty bedroom when the two came to a stop in front of what looked like a small bathroom.

No, I shouldn't have been spying or eavesdropping. No, it wasn't really my business. (Or was it?) Yes, I should have just turned back instead of pressing myself to the bedroom wall and listening to what Rikku was saying to Cloud right then—but I couldn't.

"—no, don't give me that crap, Cloud. Why're you even with me if that's the case."

"I already told you."

"You shouldn't have even asked if you still felt that way."

"I like _you_."

"But you still like her more, right?"

Oh no… Were they talking about what I thought they were?

"I never said—"

"Am I right or am I right," Rikku snapped in a harsh whisper. And when Cloud didn't answer, I heard her give a huff, heard the way her tone dropped into something wounded. "You can't like two people at the same time. You can't give me this crap about growing to love me more than you do Sora, Cloud, it ain't right. She's got someone, you know that. She doesn't like you like that, _I _do. You can't have feelings for two girls."

"Then maybe we need a break."

"It's only been a month. We can't just quit—"

"_Christ_, Rikku!" I couldn't see the expression on his face. I couldn't see anything, not when I was still hiding in the bedroom beside them with the door slightly cracked open. The way he cut her off had me squeezing my eyes shut, had a strange feeling welling up in the pit of my stomach. "What the fuck do you want from me? You're not happy with me, you're not happy without me. What do you want me to do?"

"I need to think."

"Whatever."

He turned and went back downstairs (from what I could hear) before she could say anything else, and I heard her slam the bathroom door behind her shortly after. It'd gotten painfully quiet since they had first started talking. There was a cold chill in the air.

They were fighting because of me? They were tense and not getting along because… Cloud still liked me? Was that why? Had Rikku's words been true? And if they were, if she knew that, why had she even agreed to go out with him in the first place? Why had he even _asked_ if he still had those feelings? Why did he still have those feelings when I'd told him straight, when I'd _told_ him that we could only be friends?

Why?

This didn't make sense.

Cloud was changing the dynamic of things. Intentionally or not, he was causing all this stress and I wanted it to stop. But what could I do?

"_It's okay to want to help people, but you can't blame yourself when their lives aren't going as great as yours…"_

Dr. Whitfield's words from yesterday rang loudly in my head as I sank against the wall with my knees raised upright and my eyes still closed. I felt goose bumps form on my legs where my skirt rose up, felt very cold all over all of a sudden. Ready to go home. This party wasn't for me. This party wasn't for Rikku, either, because she wasn't feeling better at all and everything was just…

I wanted to go home. Or did I go to the bathroom door, knock on it, and try to talk to Rikku? Would she want me to? Would she be mad at me? Did I have a reason to feel bad about this? And did I have the right to be angry at her about her attitude, or would it be out of line? Could I go to Cloud about this? Would he even admit anything, or would he be angry? Who did I talk to in this situation? What was I supposed to do?

"…_you're not a miracle worker…"_

This sucked.

I was determined to get home at that point. I didn't want to deal with the negative vibes for the night. Not now. I rose to my feet after a few minutes, got up and slipped out of the bedroom. The bathroom door was still closed, and there was a light shining from underneath the door; Rikku was probably still locked up in there. The hall was empty when I closed the bedroom door behind me.

Mostly.

If I had been paying complete attention I would have noticed the dark haired stranger trying to head into the bedroom at the exact moment I walked out of it, and I would have been able to keep from roughly bumping into him. Unfortunately, we caught sight of each other at the last minute and he ended up spilling his fruit drink on the front of my jacket. I froze on the spot, disbelieving of the inhumanity of it all. (Exaggerating, of course, but I did feel pretty crappy right then.)

The tall stranger let out a horrified gasp, pulling away his now emptied drink and giving me an apologetic stare. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry, oh God!"

"It's alright," I assured him, slowly stripping off my jacket with my own apologetic look. "I should've been paying attention."

"No, it's my bad."

"It's fine. Look, see, it just got on the jacket."

At least I'd been a little lucky, in that aspect. There _were_ two small specks of red juice on my dress, but it was hardly noticeable on the black fabric. It was just the jacket that seemed done for, but it wasn't like a quick wash couldn't fix it.

The young man who'd bumped into me didn't seem to be taking it so well, though. "I'm really sorry."

In spite of myself I laughed it off. "You really don't have to keep apologizing."

"It just figures, is all."

"What does?"

"I'd go and make a fool of myself in front of some pretty girl."

Okay. Well… Points for the compliment and for the embarrassed way he seemed to rub at the back of his neck. I even smiled, but the memory of Cloud and Rikku's argument was still strong in my head and I found myself growing anxious again. Instead, I folded up my jacket and tucked it under my arm, making to move past the boy. He kind of stepped to the side, still holding his empty cup out of my way and eyeing me curiously.

"Well, thank you."

"If you want, I can pop that in the wash for you? I'm buds with the guy who lives here."

"It's okay. I'll just wash it when I get home. I'm about to go anyway."

"You're leaving?"

He sounded a bit disappointed, and I couldn't help but turn to face him. I shot a fleeting glance at the bathroom door, wondering if Rikku could hear me out in the hallway. Wondering if she even cared. Who could be sure? I figured, since I didn't want to bother her, I could just call myself a cab and go home. Or, worst case scenario, call Grams to come pick me up.

Still giving him that strained smile, I nodded at the teen. "Yeah, I'm not feeling up to this anyway."

"Party just started, though."

"Don't worry about it."

"Well…maybe we could dance? So I could make it up to you, I mean."

What was with this guy? There was something mousy and dorky and adorable all at the same time, and yet… His grey eyes put me off. The awkward way he held himself put me off, but he seemed genuine enough. Maybe he was just a strange person.

"I don't know… It'd feel weird, with my boyfriend not here and all," I muttered.

"Well, he's not here. And it is one dance."

What was with guys who didn't care if you had a boyfriend or not? Wasn't it common sense to lay off, especially if you didn't seem interested? Or was it _because _you didn't seem interested? And why did this whole conversation remind me so much of Cloud. Jeez…

I glanced at the bathroom door again—what was Rikku doing in there?—before motioning to the eager stranger to follow me downstairs where the crowd was. If anything, I didn't want Rikku to walk out and see me talking to some random guy… He seemed sweet, though, even if there was something off about him. Even if I did feel a little down right now. What was one dance? There was no harm. After that, it'd be completely out of mind and I'd never see him again anyway.

So, in spite of myself, I gave him one brief dance. It was enough to keep my mind off of my friends and their earlier argument, if only for a little while. And it provided a few laughs, seeing as this stranger—Doug, he'd introduced himself as—had two left feet. He was a good sport about it, though, just did simple moves. Most importantly, he kept his hands mostly to himself.

He got himself a new drink after the song had finished, had handed me one too. We took seats in the crowded kitchen, settled at the dining table by the window, and just talked for a little bit. Nothing too deep or serious, just simple things like our thoughts about the party or how tolerant the neighbors seemed of all of this noise. He told me a little bit about the host of the party, some guy named Angeal, and a little bit about himself. How he usually didn't go to parties, let alone get invited, because he was prone to accidents like one from before. ("I'm really sorry," he'd said for the twelfth time, to which I whole heartedly replied, "It's really not that big a deal.")

I told myself after I finished talking to him that I'd call up a taxi and head on my way home. I really didn't want to stay for too long. Plus he still gave me that weird feeling, as sweet and funny as he seemed. I just didn't want to tell him he creeped me out, 'cause that seemed rude. I'd just tell him thanks for the dance, thanks for the talk, and enjoy the rest of your life without me. But then…

Then things got weird.

"Is the room blurry to you?" I asked after a couple of minutes. Surprisingly calm.

Doug raised an eyebrow. "Blurry?"

"Yeah, man. It's like… Your voice is quiet."

It was like I was being sucked away through a vacuum or straw, like someone was whispering to me from the far end of a tunnel. All the background noise seemed to fade. The room seemed to glow and spin in slow circles. My body felt warm, like someone was tickling me somehow. Yet I felt numb… Prickly.

Ha. Weird.

Wait…

"You alright, Sweet Pea?"

His voice sounded different now. Like… Where'd the mousiness go? There was something different about it now. Not his voice, the tone. No, his voice sounded so far away. What? His face had this knowing look on it. Everything was still blurry. It was hot. Wasn't it?

"Yeah, I just…" Just what?

"You just need some fresh air, right?"

God, his voice sounded like music. Who was this guy again? His face was cute. A little babyish, and his hair could use a comb. And his eyes. Wow. They were like… Like little cotton balls or dust bunnies or something, just in eyeball form. Ha.

_Am I okay?_

Was I?

Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Let's go take a walk," Cutie said after a moment, voice low. Dropping so low… Man, he was tall. Did babies even come that tall? How did you get that tall? It was like Axel tall, maybe taller.

_It's so hot… Am I okay?_

"Man, I'm floating…" Even my voice sounded far away. I think I might have been melting.

But his hands were wrapped around me, and he was leading me through the crowd, towards the front door. His voice was a low hum. "Sure you are."

"Are you hot?"

"No, why?"

'Cause I was having a hard time breathing. Was I even moving? Were those my feet moving so lightly and yet so heavily and…

_Am I okay?_

It dawned on me when we were outside, when he helped me down the sidewalk, towards some van parked further away from the house. Some black van that seemed to be melting into the street. He'd slipped something in my drink. And maybe the whole nice guy thing was an act. Maybe spilling his juice on me had been some sort of plan. And the night air was hot and I couldn't remember where I put my jacket— Wait, he was holding it for me. And I could barely move on my own, now that I thought about it.

It was hot. God, I was so freakin' hot. It wasn't a comfortable kind of hot anymore. And his face was a blur, too. Everything was a blur. I couldn't hear his voice anymore— Was he even saying something?

_Am I okay?_

Why wasn't I scared?

"You okay, Sweet Pea?" He asked me again, like a fly in my ear. Like some distant call. The tunnel thing. Like…yeah. It was hot. Wasn't he hot? And I think he unlocked his car door or something, the black van. Or something. I was pressed against something.

Lips were on me, somewhere… Face.

I wasn't scared. Why? My drink, right?

God, my chest was starting to burn.

_Riku?_

Riku wasn't here. So who else could be kissing me? Who's hands were that, slipping my dress strap down.

_I'm not okay…?_

"I can't…breathe…"

He said…something. I dunno. I didn't know anymore. I'm sure I was panting like a dog, and sweating like one too. I'm sure I blacked out. I dunno. My hearing was just fine, but everything was black. And things still sounded far away. Sorta.

"_Get the FUCK off of her!"_

And something… Was that? Cloud? I think… Someone else was yelling…

I couldn't stay awake anymore. I couldn't hear anymore.

_Am I okay?_

* * *

><p>"…<em>es of ketamine in his system."<em>

"_Her."_

"_Her, but our medical records say—"_

"…_know what they…"_

"…_eep her overnight, at leas…drain out of…"_

* * *

><p><em>"...et her go i...st place, th...'t bel..."<em>

_"Ma."_

_"Lord, help her..."_

* * *

><p>"…<em>ng to be okay?"<em>

"_Doctors say she…ust to be sure. The dill…ust…"_

"_Sora, c…r me?"_

"…_sleep."_

* * *

><p>I don't think...<p>

I'm okay.


	25. I Smile

**Riku; Today's a New Day**

Unfortunately Kairi and Naminé couldn't come with me. We waited in front of the mall, silent with worry, but Kairi's dad showed up before Axel and Roxas did. Even after minutes of arguing and attempted persuasion, he said it was too late for the girls to be out and promised he'd take them to visit Sora first thing after school tomorrow. For now, he had to get the two of them home like he'd promised. ("I understand it's your friend, Kai, but you know how your mother gets.")

The girls both gave me a squeeze of the hand before climbing in the car and telling me to keep them posted. Our farewells were kept short, but I could feel their sentiments. Then I was alone.

For maybe ten minutes I waited by myself in front of the mall parking lot, crouched on the sidewalk with hair falling in my face and growing annoyance at the handful of teens wandering outside with their cigarettes raised to the blackened air and their laughter ringing too loudly in my ears. I was worrying like I'd never worried before, texting Roxas nonstop to get his boy toy to speed his way here if he had to. The wait, the uncertainty, was killing me. It was inhumane torture. It had me thinking about Sephiroth and Genesis and Larxene.

Larxene.

The verdict would be on Saturday, three days from now. It was so close, yet there was no guarantee that the jury would find her guilty or innocent. There was no way to know. Plus the word was already out, to her friends, her employers, modeling agencies and photographers she'd come in contact with… If anything, her reputation was already shot, right? So would she even bother fighting back now? Would she target Sora after so long, as some last resort?

This wasn't right.

Axel and Roxas showed up maybe twenty minutes later, rolling up beside me in the red head's silver SUV. I didn't bother waiting for him to unlock the door before rushing towards the backseat, and when I finally did slip inside I gave a curt, "Drive," to Axel. As annoyed as he looked by the sudden order, he did as he was told.

We rode in uncomfortable silence for the first half of the drive. Rox wouldn't look at me from his spot in the front seat, though I was sure he could feel my eyes on the back of his head. From what I saw he wasn't as frantic as he had sounded on the phone. Not to say that he was calm; he was far from it. But he wasn't as bad as before.

I wasted a few more precious minutes watching darkened buildings and dim street lights pass us by. Then I shifted in my seat and squeezed my hands together, looking back at the blonde. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Rox muttered tiredly.

"What did they say?"

"Grams just called me and said that a couple of Sora's friends had to rush her to the hospital. She doesn't know why, but we're all heading there now…"

"How does she now know what happened? Why didn't they tell her?"

"I don't _know_, Riku!" The way he yelled it had me shutting up instantly, had me settling back into my seat and staring at the floor. Something in his voice sounded like he was cracking, just a bit, sounded backed into a corner. He slouched in his seat, seemed to shudder, and then closed his eyes. Let out a heavy breath. Then, quietly, he repeated, "I don't know, Riku."

I wasn't the only one being tortured with worry. It showed on his face as he gave the slightest shudder at whatever thoughts were going through his head. The night air filling the car seemed to paint his features so much darker than before. His voice was just barely audible. "I don't know any more than you do, Riku. All I got was a call. When we get there we can find out, but right now I have no answers."

"She'll be okay," Axel cut in quietly, never taking his eyes off the road. He seemed a lot cooler than I'd expected, but his eyes gave away that he wasn't as calm as he tried to be. Still, his words were confident.

I narrowed my own eyes at him. "You don't know that."

"You keep thinking the worst and the worst happens." He stared right back at me in the rearview mirror, voice stern. "She'll be okay. You keep thinking that, and she will be."

_And what guarantee do you have for that?_ I couldn't help but think it bitterly. Here he was telling me to wish for the best when I knew nothing, when he knew nothing, when the worst could have already happened by now. I tried to stay positive about it, though. Tried to.

No one said anything else until we got to the hospital.

We still weren't told exactly what was going on when we got inside. There was one nurse at the check in counter who told us that Sora was in the ER when we explained why we were here. When Rox called his grams to figure out where she was, though, she told him that she was waiting on the fifth floor with his mother. We made a beeline there, asked what looked like a passing doctor if she knew anything about Sora, where we could find her. We found her grandmother instead, sitting in the waiting area the doctor had pointed out to us

"I'm just about to have a chat with your mother," the woman said to Roxas with a small smile that the blonde didn't feel inclined to return. "Don't you worry, okay?"

"But—"

"Let me have a word with your mother first," she said gently, nodding past the waiting area to one of the patient rooms across from us. "I promised her I'd be right back."

Roxas didn't say anything to that and instead stared at the door with this wounded expression. The doctor at least looked apologetic for having to leave him hanging, but she headed for the room all the same. Roxas still stared at the door, even after it closed behind the woman's figure. Eyeing him closely, Axel placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and kind of tugged him in the direction of his grandmother. "C'mon."

His grams gave us a strained smile, but that didn't take the uncertainty and worry out of her tone when she greeted us. She was quick to pull her grandson into a tight hug when he sat down beside her, keeping her arm wrapped around his shoulders like she was trying to catch herself from falling over. And he just kind of leaned against her as she mumbled something about a party and some boy and Sora being drugged. Something about her friends catching him before he could do anything more than kiss her.

"He _kissed_ her?" I practically snapped it at her, and she seemed to understand the anger welling up in me because her scowl was identical to mine.

"And he would've done more if this friend, this Cloud, hadn't stepped in when he did. I told him I didn't like the idea of that party. I _told_ Sora. I knew what kind of riffraff happens at those types of parties." Her bony, free hand gripped the strap of her purse tightly as she shook her head against Rox's. "Why'd I say yes? And I had no idea whose house it was, who was gonna be there. He told me it would be a small party, he said—"

"She, Grams," Roxas corrected quietly.

The woman was too flustered to quite hear. "I said _NO_ alcohol, _NO_ drugs. Stay _together_. I told 'im to stick with his friends, to _WATCH_ each other."

"Her, Grams."

"Her. Sorry. I'm just…"

"I know."

Her eyes slipped closed and she ran her fingers through her scraggly hair, almost scratching the dirty blonde strands. She looked so tired. She muttered something under her breath, something I didn't quite understand, but it didn't seem to matter.

The entire time Axel and I had been standing awkwardly in front of them, silent, staring every which way when it grew quiet between the four of us. The red head had his thumbs in his pockets and a frustrated frown on his lips, and he kept throwing uneasy glances at the door the doctor had disappeared behind. After a minute he sucked his teeth and stalked off towards the opposite end of the waiting area, near a couple of vending machines. Roxas watched him worriedly but didn't say anything, didn't make a move to follow him.

When he came back with a can of Sprite he settled himself two seats down from Rox and his grams, leaning forward and digging his other hand in his pocket. He didn't open his drink, but instead pulled out a pack of smokes. Stuck one in his mouth and tucked the pack away, then fingered the tab on his drink absently.

I still didn't sit down, just crossed my arms and watched as he let the cig hang lazily out of his mouth. "You can't smoke in here."

"Do you see a lighter in my hand?" he muttered shortly, not quite meeting my eye.

I let him be and paced over to the vending machines myself. Didn't even bother getting anything to eat or drink; it was hard to focus on at the moment. It was a few more minutes before the door the doctor had disappeared behind opened back up and she waved to the four of us with a reassuring smile on her face. We were quick to rush inside.

Mrs. Sabota was standing by the side of the single bed in the room, red palms pressed onto the plastic rails, and she glanced over at us as we filed inside behind the doctor. (Dr. Eve, her name tag read now that I paid attention.) The mother looked weary, but she seemed like she was holding up pretty well compared to the rest of us.

And Sora.

To be honest, I didn't know what I was expecting. The entire walk here I had had my breath held, my tongue nestled between my teeth. In spite of Axel's words, I had prepared myself for and kept thinking about the worst. But looking at Sora now, I wasn't sure if the giant knot of anxiety in my chest was completely justified.

She looked like she was sleeping. A very deep sleep, mind you. And yes, her flattened hair looked a little messed up and there was an unhealthy flush to her cheeks—fever?—but for the most part she looked better than what I had imagined. There was an IV of some questionable fluid attached to her left arm, but whatever the doctors thought was necessary…

When Rox and Sora's grams caught sight of the brunette she let out a light, "Lord, bless her soul."

Mrs. Sabota reached out and grabbed the older woman's hand as she made her way towards the bed. Roxas, Axel, and I kind of hovered around on the other end of the bed, still silent, carefully studying Sora's face. Dr. Eve stuck around for a few more seconds before saying, "I'll just leave you all be." Then she was leaving, shutting the door behind her.

"Lord, bless her soul," Granny repeated herself, squeezing her daughter's hand. "I shouldn't have let her go in the first place, the party… I can't believe any of this. If I had just said no…"

"Ma." Mrs. S gave her mother a meaningful look, which the woman just gave a shake of the head to.

"Lord, help her."

"Ma, it's not your fault."

She slipped her hand free, walked behind us towards the window shielded by off white curtains, and she seated herself on the rough looking couch. Planted her feet in front of her, dragged her hand over her face with closed eyes. Couldn't blame her.

Roxas willed his feet to move after that, settled himself beside Sora on the space on her bed. And he just stared, eyes blue slits, as if trying to find some sort of answer on her sleeping face. He even ran the back of his palm against her cheek, but no words left his mouth. Me? I couldn't really say anything either. I couldn't even move.

Was Sora hurt because of me? Was it… Had Larxene put someone up to this, or was it something else? Something at the most inconvenient time? It was a sickening thought.

I glanced at the brunette's mother, barely able to get my words out. "Is she going to be okay?"

A nod. "Doctors say she got lucky. The dosage of the drug was kind of high, but it's not enough to kill her. They're going to let it drain out of her system, at least keep her overnight just to be sure. The dill hole, luckily, got his sorry ass busted."

"Gina!"

"What, Ma? He did."

Clearly it was the way Mrs. S had said it that put her mother off, but it was kind of amusing how the woman acted like she had no idea what the problem was. That wasn't enough to distract me, though. I was glad the creep got arrested, but that didn't make me feel any better. I still couldn't swallow the lump in my throat.

Sora made a sound, moved lightly. Five pairs of eyes shot towards her. Rox was the one to lean in and ask, "Sora, can you hear me?"

But that was it, and she was still and sleeping again. Axel sighed, moving from beside me to another part of the room. "Rox, just let her sleep."

Granny looked to her daughter after a moment and asked, "Trina, what's the plan?"

Mrs. Sabota scratched her head in thought, tilted her head to the side. "I'm thinking… We can stick around for a couple hours. I wanted to spend the night, though."

"Ya want me to run by the house, get ya some bags and a blanket?"

"If you don't mind? And could Rox stay the night with you?"

Her mother blinked. "I wanted to stay here too."

"No, Ma, 'cause if you stay then either Rox will have to too and someone's gonna have to get up and get him to school on time tomorrow. Or someone's gonna have to drop him off home tonight and drive back here, and we don't need to make two trips. Plus, I don't want Roxas sitting home by himself worrying the whole night."

"He can spend the night with me," Axel suggested, looking from one woman to the other. "If it's all good with you?"

I wasn't surprised when Granny didn't look too pleased with that idea, like she was wary of something more going on than just a sleepover. "Mm…"

"It wouldn't just be the two of us," Axel added as if reading her mind. "My roommates are out of town for the week, but I'm watching my nephew for a couple of days."

Mrs. Sabota looked to her son. "Roxas?"

"It's fine."

"Then okay." The woman glanced at her mother who still looked a bit unsure, but they seemed to come to some silent agreement with each other. "Thank you, Axel."

He waved it off, though I could tell just how pleased he was with the arrangement. "No prob."

Things seemed to speed by after that. Mrs. Sabota and her mother continued to talk, and Axel tried to get Roxas to snap out of whatever trance he had thought himself into. I watched Sora, paced around, watched her some more. Then my phone rang. Aerith. She'd been frantic because she couldn't find me at the mall, and somehow I managed to calmly explain to her what had gone down. She'd been livid, but she understood and quickly made her way down to visit. She and Sora's mom talked for a bit as well. Then Axel and Rox, reluctantly, went on their ways, and Granny went back home to pack some overnight bags…

"She's still sleeping," I said aloud for no reason at all, still staring at Sora.

Both Aerith and Mrs. Sabota eyed me curiously, and when I didn't say anything else or move, Aerith let out a sigh and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Let's get you home, okay. You need to get some rest."

I didn't want to rest when Sora's face was hot and her breathing looked shallow. I wanted to stick around, at least until she woke up, but who knew how long that would be? It didn't seem right to just leave her like this, to not try and do something. Something…

Like what?

"Riku, let's go honey."

"But…"

"We'll drop by and see her again, I promise."

It didn't feel right, but I let the woman lead me out the room and outside the hospital.

* * *

><p>I had a break from the trial on Thursday. I wouldn't be expected back until Friday morning, which meant I'd be missing another day at school. Not that I cared. Not that I could make myself care about much of anything, save for Sora.<p>

'Round lunch time I decided to skip out on Naminé and Kairi—I was sure they had an ass load of questions I wouldn't feel like answering—and went straight to the library instead. I headed for the back of the room, hidden behind weathered shelves of reference books, and settled myself at one of the round tables with a sigh. Crossed my arms, laid my head down on top of them. And I slept for a while. Tried to.

No one had called me, texted me, emailed, anything about whether or not Sora was okay. Would she even be okay? Was she going to get better? And that creep that had drugged her in the first place… Hell, why had she taken anything from him? Or had she not been paying attention to her drink for some unexplained reason, even for just a couple of seconds. What…what would have happened if this Cloud guy, if her friend Rikku, hadn't been there. What if they hadn't seen her?

This was all part of Larxene's plan to keep me from the trial, wasn't it? Or was it really just some sick coincidence? What was I supposed to do?

"Fuck it all," I mumbled to myself, gripping my arms in frustration.

A familiar voice sounded from behind me, concerned. "What are you doing here?"

I lifted my head only to see Roxas crossing through shelf aisles behind me, though he came to a stop when he got a good look at my face. There were two books cradled in his arms, hugging a worn down composition notebook in between each other, and it took me a moment to realize that I actually recognized that particular notebook. "You still write in that thing?"

"You gave it to me," the blonde muttered offhandedly, taking a seat across from me. When I didn't lift my head to get a better look at him, his frown broadened. "You look tired."

"I am. How's…"

"She's holding up. She woke up and talked a bit this morning, but she fell back asleep right after. Grams is watching her now." He spread out his books and lazily picked at the cover of his notebook as he spoke. He didn't look it, but his voice sounded just as tired as I was. I wondered if he managed to sleep at all last night. "We should be able to check her out by Saturday or Sunday."

I didn't want to have to wait that long…but I didn't say anything about it and simply let out a breath instead.

He blinked at me. "How're things with the trial?"

"I don't know, Rox. I don't know how this'll turn out."

He stared at me a moment, quiet, then after entertaining whatever thought had crossed his mind he said, "Why don't you pray?"

I couldn't keep from snorting at his suggestion, even though he was being completely serious. I lifted my head right then, smirking in spite of myself. "To who, exactly?"

"It helps," he said, ignoring my comment. "Even if it's short and simple."

"When did you become Mr. Sunday School?"

"Just because you don't believe doesn't mean I can't believe for you."

"I don't pray."

He held out a hand for me to take, this bold expression on his face. Unrelenting. And he stared right into my eyes in a way that had my smirk fading away and my voice dying down. When I didn't make any move he reached across the table and gripped my hands anyway, gently yet firmly. "I'll pray for you."

"Rox…"

"Just close your eyes."

We used to have talks about God and religion before, when we went out. Except he hadn't been and still wasn't the kind to push it down my throat or judge when I told him that I was better off without a god of any kind. My own morals and personal values should have been enough; I didn't need some holy book of scriptures, pious followers, or anything of the like telling me how to live my life. But at that moment the way Roxas was gripping my hands and closing his eyes with me made me realize that I didn't really care one way or another.

And I let him pray for me.

* * *

><p>I walked into the court room with Aerith that Friday feeling bitter, worried, tired, and convinced that things wouldn't change drastically in less than a day. But the trial took an interesting turn that had me questioning my luck. Marluxia was on the bench today, as the prosecution's witness. Not the defense's. He was "on my side" as I liked to think of it. What I couldn't figure out was why? Why testify against his fiancé?<p>

_Unless he doesn't love her. Unless he never loved her. Unless he's got something to hide…or tell…_

For once since the trial started, Larxene's cat-like glare was directed at someone other than me, at her rosy haired partner. The pout never left her face as he was sworn in, and I swear when he put his hand on that Bible and repeated the oath he was looking dead at her with this _fearlessness_ in his eyes. Something very intimidating and threatening and bone chilling at the same time.

Then Ansem rose from his seat beside me and approached the judge's bench, which just threw everyone off. Everyone but Marluxia, Officer Awning who sat directly behind me, Sephiroth who sat beside her, and Genesis who was beside him and squeezing the man's hand in his. I looked around the court room curiously, taking in the questioning stares the jury seemed to aim at Ansem and the judge. Then the judge addressed the jury, adjusting his glasses.

"It looks like the people would like to introduce a new piece of evidence to this case, a video graphic recording turned over to the police this morning by Mr. Trivet. The recorded assault and rape of Sephiroth Caston."

Larxene bristled right then, her eyes narrowing to blue green slits as she tried her damndest to make Marluxia's head implode with just a stare. But he just kept staring back at her with that same expression as before. The judge continued.

"Due to the graphic nature of this video, I'll ask for the jury to review it privately in the council chambers."

"Your Honor, this is the first I've heard of any such evidence," Larxene's lawyer said defiantly, hopping to his feet. "And the police had no right searching through my client's property without her permission."

"As I understand it, these tapes were _not_ in your client's custody," Ansem shot back. Rather smoothly, I might add. "In fact, some eight months ago she willingly turned over said tapes to her fiancé and gave him no indication that she wanted them back. He was not informed to hide or destroy them, so he took _his_ property and willingly turned it in to the police this morning. Am I correct, Detective Awning?"

Officer Awning gave a nod from her seat, trying her best to hide the smirk on her face. "That's correct."

"No arguments, counselor," the judge told Larxene's lawyer. "I'm allowing it. We'll take a half hour recess so the jury and I can review this tape. I'd like to see you and Mr. Wise in my chambers as well."

That seemed to be the end of that conversation because, before I knew it, the judge banged his gavel and the two attorneys and the jury were slowly filing out of the room to whatever chambers laid behind those double doors. The only people left were those of us sitting in the onlookers' seats, those of us who had already given our testimonies or were here for moral support.

I couldn't keep from glancing over at Larxene, who had been surprisingly quiet during the whole thing. Who was still holding her silent staring contest with Marluxia. It was odd…almost eerie how neither of them looked ready to back down. But then, before I realized it, the woman ended up bursting into tears and hopping up from her seat. She excused herself rather ungracefully, stalking past the rest of us still waiting, and she rushed out of the door. Seconds after, Officer Awning got up and followed her. Probably to make sure she didn't hurt anybody…or herself.

I turned to face Sephiroth. "What the hell just happened?"

He blinked at me for a moment before quietly replying, "I mentioned how she had a hidden camera in her room that night, that she had a tape of what she did to me somewhere."

I nodded.

"She gave it, along with several others, to Marluxia to hold for her. Other tapes of other under aged boys. There's at least a dozen."

"Wait…"

"I got the call this morning when they found one with my name on it. There was a date and everything. She labeled each one, of each boy, but Marluxia hadn't known what they were; he hadn't bothered to watch them. He thought they were friends of hers. He only looked because of the trial, and I guess he recognized my name from yesterday."

This was insane. This was… As horrific as the thought was, I wasn't all that surprised that there had been other boys. But why would she keep that kind of evidence? Why would she…and then to hand it over to your boyfriend, fiancé, whoever? Did she not expect him to look? Had she lied to him? Then again, they did have a very open relationship; they did sleep around with other people, so maybe he had just assumed…

I shouldn't have been excited. Not about something like this. But I was, and it must have showed on my face because Sephiroth gave me a grim yet amused expression and rolled his eyes at me. "You got lucky."

"You're getting justice too."

"I suppose."

"You _are_. Aren't you happy about this?"

"Not as happy as you, apparently," Genesis muttered sourly, avoiding my eye. He meant it as an insult, but I didn't care. I couldn't help it. And Sephiroth didn't seem to mind my sudden change in mood either.

I found myself looking back towards the stand, looking directly at Marluxia. He was watching me with that same expression on his face. Something that seemed to say, "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me."

I didn't care who or what the reason was—I'd never been so thankful in my entire life.

* * *

><p>Maybe God existed. I remember thinking that on Saturday. Maybe He did exist and maybe he did answer prayers and maybe he did give a damn about me and my pitiful existence.<p>

Because the trial was closed and Larxene was found guilty.

Again, it was like right out of some episode of _Law and Order_. Except this was literally impacting my life, Sephiroth's life, Larxene's life. A real person's life, their future, had been at stake and I'd pleaded in my mind for that future to be shot down the toilet. That sounds cruel and morbid, but it was highly deserved. Twelve years each, for two counts of statutory rape. Depending on what else the police found on her other tapes and if they decided to press charges for those separate cases, it could even become more than that.

Aerith cried. She cried so hard, so much, I was surprised I didn't start with her. She pulled Ansem into a tight hug after the judgment had been made, after the jury and others started to rise to their feet and march out of the room. I saw Officer Awning proudly escorting Larxene out of the room in handcuffs. I did have to give it to the model, though; at least she managed to look dignified about it.

That was the last I'd see of her. That thought didn't really sink in until she was out of the room. I wouldn't see her again. She'd be in _jail_ for twenty four years. My God…

"Riku."

I was still sitting down, but I looked up at the owner of the voice. Sephiroth stood beside me, alone today. Looking very…very tired and cool for someone who'd just help put a rapist away. I didn't say anything as he placed a hand on my shoulder, as he squeezed it. "Thank you."

It took me a moment to find my voice. "You're thanking me?"

"For speaking in the first place."

"You're the one that helped me, though."

_You helped me more than you know_, his eyes seemed to say, but those words never left his mouth. Instead he pulled out a small card from his pocket and handed it to me. A simple beige business card with a red, intricately designed R on the front. I flipped it over on the back to read _The Royale Theatre House_, and Sephiroth's contact information underneath.

"I coordinate and direct plays there. Just don't call me, because I probably won't answer," he said.

I arched a brow at him. "Then why give me your info?"

"So you can have the number."

"But you won't answer."

"Probably won't. Depends on my mood." He was joking, but his tone was no different than his regular speaking voice so it was hard to tell. I guess it was a thing you had to get used to with him. But then his features softened, and he smiled. "Take care of yourself."

Then he was gone, leaving me restless.

The rest is a bit of a blur after that. Aerith and I left and we drove, just drove, and the more we drove the more I realized what had just happened and how it had happened and why and…

I'd just helped put someone away for a good chunk of their life. I just got _legal revenge_ on the woman who took something from me I'd never really get back. I'd just put Larxene _away_. And… I couldn't think straight until we got to our destination—the hospital, as Aerith had promised, because I hadn't seen Sora since our last visit on Friday. I hadn't heard from her since, but Rox had assured me she was doing better, and…

I needed to tell her. I needed to thank her. I needed to hold her, to kiss her, right now, and I was rushing the entire way to her room with Aerith following behind me and amusedly calling out for me to wait, to slow down.

I didn't, though; I burst into her hospital room, surprising her Granny, and immediately asked where Sora was when I didn't spot her in her bed. It didn't need a response, because just seconds after there was a flush and the sound of running water from the rest room, and before the brunette had even made it out I was beaming. Before she could even realize what was going on, I darted for her and I pulled her into the tightest hug I'd ever given before, and I started kissing her face over and over and over again as everything just sank in completely.

At first she was confused, and her grandmother was laughing from behind us, and Aerith was laughing with her. But then Sora started laughing too, and I started laughing, then I was crying as I continued to hug and kiss her uncontrollably. 'Cause even though I knew what I wanted to say to her, I couldn't get the words out, so I just span her around and held her close to me.

I didn't have to say thank you, say anything, for her to know what I meant.


	26. Growing Pains

**Sora; We're All Just A Work in Progress  
><strong>

I had two different bodies. Like… My physical body was there, and it was moving every now and then, ever so slightly. It floated. Fingers twitched. It rolled over whenever I got too uncomfortable. It drifted. Then there was my mental self which had a form all its own, hovering just inches over my physical self and willing it to move, giving quiet orders. Like… Whenever I mentally told myself to move, my physical self took a couple of seconds to catch up. It was always behind, like… It was like operating on a quarter tank of gas, kind of. Always wondering if it would run out, if it would last or just stop half way through your travel.

It was all very freaky, but for some reason I didn't care too much. And it was still very hot. Too hot. My chest hurt… That seemed to be the only thing that worried me. That, and the fact that voices around me still sounded very far away.

It got a little better as time passed, as what I assumed was still night changed to morning. Ma and Grams were talking quietly. Ms. Aerith's voice drifted in here and there. Rox and Riku, Cloud and Rikku, Zack and Axel… And Naminé and Kairi? It sounded like them. Kind of jumbled. Kind of not. I dunno.

I think I was awake on and off with each time being awake clearing my head a little more than before. And I _think_ I talked a bit—to who, I'm not entirely sure. I remember Rox's face popping in here and there, and maybe a nurse's. I don't even know what I said or if it was coherent.

At some point during the day, though—late afternoon?—I was lucid enough to clearly hear Grams humming something from her seat beside me. I blinked myself awake, letting my eyes adjust to the light spilling in through the window. I had to let my body even itself out to the point that it felt like one instead of two separate pieces. My eyes flitted across the room, examining the uniformly white space, back to Grams who was now looking up at me and setting the book in her hand down with a stern yet pleasant smile. "Good morning again."

I didn't say anything at first—couldn't, it seemed, because my tongue felt so heavy—but I managed to get out a quiet, "Mornin'…" Even though it was far past morning.

The woman heaved a sigh, pressing her lips together. "Do ya feel any better?"

"Sorta."

"Do ya remember what happened?"

That stupid party. That stupid move I made with…what's his name? Danny or Duke or something? I couldn't remember all of that. Not even his face. I just remembered that he put me off and…

_Why in the world did you even _talk_ to him? How does that make any sense?_

It didn't. I had more sense than that, so why…?

I made a noise in the back of my throat and rolled over onto my side, surprised by the sharp sting in my left arm. I glanced at it only to see an IV was connected to it, but I chose to ignore it as best I could and simply smushed my pillow on top of my head.

Grams made an amused sound at my reaction, but didn't push it any more than necessary. "Lesson learned, as your grandpa used to say."

"Mm…"

"At least you're alive. Ya've been blessed."

"Mm-hm."

"Ya okay, Sunshine?"

"Tired."

I felt…weird. I didn't know how else to explain it.

But I really didn't feel okay.

* * *

><p>Cloud and Rikku visited me a couple hours later, around four. Cloud had come first, though, maybe twenty or so minutes before Rikku had even checked in and walked into the room. By that time Grams was off getting something to eat in the cafeteria, so it was just me and him.<p>

And I'll tell you what, it was damn awkward.

When the blonde had come in he had asked how I was feeling, first and foremost. If there had been any other complications or signs to lookout for, but I told him for the most part I was holding up fine. That the doctor and nurses were saying the drug would clear out of my system by the end of the day, but the symptoms might stick around a little. That I'd need at least another day or two before I felt completely "normal." (Even now, the light headedness wouldn't go away. And I had to pee a lot.) Then I'd thanked him. Really. Because I didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't…

Then we were kind of quiet, him sitting off to the side and staring out the window and me picking at my blanket.

Finally I managed to break the silence. "I heard you and Rikku talking at the party…"

He didn't look at me, but he didn't look too surprised either. "Did you?"

"I heard her…say something about you liking two girls at once."

That's when his blue eyes darted over towards me, when he regarded me silently with this expression on his face that made my heart tie itself into a knot. "What do you want me to say?"

My fingers kept picking at the blanket. "Why'd you even ask her out…?"

"She asked me out."

"Then why did you say yes if you still had feelings for me?"

"I thought I didn't, but... What do you want me to say?" he repeated quietly, and it just made me angry. It made me narrow my eyes at him and scowl.

"I want you to tell me the truth, Cloud. Do you or do you not still like me?"

"I do."

He was so…unashamed about it. I didn't get it. I really didn't get it at all, and it had me so angry. Angrier than I'd been in days, weeks, angrier than I'd been at any prank at school or any slight innocent comment made at home. Angrier than I'd been at any particular circumstance that just wasn't _fair_ in my life.

I was shaking my head, shifting in my bed. "And Rikku knew this before she asked you out?"

"She said she was okay with it, so long as…"

"So long as she gave you enough time to 'grow to love her more,' right?"

I didn't get a response to that. Instead he looked back out the window, suddenly sullen. Suddenly speechless.

"I've always thought you were a nice guy, Cloud. I've always thought you're a gentleman and you treat girls with respect, that you have a good head on your shoulders. I've always thought you were nice, Cloud, and that you and Rikku were a good couple. Because I want you guys to be happy." My voice was so quiet then, and as I went on my tone dropped into something very sharp. "But you're selfish, you're a jackass, and you're so full of shit."

"Thanks."

"I'm not being funny."

"I know you're not," he said dryly.

"Then do Rikku a favor and break up with her, because she deserves better. If you can't give her two hundred percent, then you don't need to be with her at all."

The door cracked open then. Another blonde head poked in, and the beaded braids and blue scarf made it obvious whose it was. Slowly, Rikku stepped inside, expression solemn and eyes wary when they glanced at the two of us. And she didn't say anything, but it was obvious she had just heard what I'd just said. But she didn't say anything.

Sighing, I leaned back against my pillows, watching the way Cloud and Rikku exchanged meaningful looks with one another. They didn't seem too keen on discussion. Neither did I, not anymore. In fact, I was uncharacteristically peeved right then at how they weren't _saying anything_. Something would have helped.

This was too awkward.

After a long moment of silence, Rikku finally cleared her throat and looked at me. "How're you feeling, Chilli Bean?"

"Better than before."

"I'm sorry, Sora. So sorry. If I'd been watching you like I was supposed to—"

"It's fine. I mean, not really, but at least you two got me here in time so…"

"You shouldn't have to be here in the first place."

That had been my bad, though… But I didn't add that, simply nodded in agreement and started messing with my blanket once more. She didn't move from the door, leaned against it instead and crossing her arms. She was biting her bottom lip with worry, and for a moment she seemed like her old self even though she wasn't smiling or trying to brighten the situation like she usually would. She seemed like the old Rikku before all the drama.

And I started wondering why everyone around me seemed to have drama. Why was there always drama in my life? It didn't make any sense.

Then, miraculously, Cloud looked to his partner and said the four magic words. "We need to talk."

She blinked, she frowned. But she nodded. "Okay."

Cloud kind of looked at me, as if asking for permission, voice soft. "Do you mind?"

I nodded and gave a small smile. "Go ahead."

Then the two of them were taking a short walk out the room, voices very quiet but open. It was a start. They needed to talk civilly to each other, and they needed to not drag me into it. I had said some pretty mean things to Cloud…but I didn't regret it and I wasn't going to take anything back.

Grams came back a little after with two tuna subs in her hand and a curious expression on her face. She shot a funny look at the door as she closed it behind her. "Those two are leaving already? They looked like they just got here."

"Cloud and Rikku?"

"Your little blonde friends, yes."

The woman handed me one of the subs, taking in the somewhat tired, somewhat amused look on my face, but I could only shrug in response. She stared at me a little longer when I started eating in silence, but she didn't ask any more questions and dug into her own sandwich as well.

* * *

><p>"What were you thinking, Sora?"<p>

_I was thinking I'd be out of here by now, but that was a lie…_

"Look at me."

The first time I'd been awake and coherent enough to actually talk to Ma, and she had an attitude with me. Part of me kept reminding itself that it was just worry that had her storming into the hospital room later that night; it was just stress that had her letting down her hair and pointing an accusing finger in my direction. Another part wanted to snap back at her, but I bit my tongue and scowled instead.

Grams was sitting off to the corner as she had for most of the day, reading her book like nothing was going on. And poor Rox kept shooting me sympathetic stares from his seat beside her, but he knew better than to interrupt Ma when she was upset. Instead, he tried to focus on the homework he had propped up in his lap.

"Sora, you look at me," Ma grit out, and I did. She frowned. "Why would you take a drink from a complete stranger? Why would you even talk to him if you knew he was shady?"

"I don't know."

"Don't you know what kind of things could've happened? Didn't you think you were making a bad move? You're lucky the police got a hold of him, that they locked him up. That the dose of alcohol he mixed in wasn't high enough to… Think what he could have done to you."

"I wasn't thinking, Ma…" I muttered, looking away from her again, shifting in my bed.

"You're right, you didn't think. Sora, he could have raped you, or killed you. You could have died. Do you understand? You have to be _careful_ with stuff like that. Thank God, you were lucky this time. You're lucky your friends were there, that they saw you walking out with him, that they followed you like they did. You have to be smart, Sora, or else how will I be able to trust you to make good decisions when you're out on your own?"

"It was one mistake—"

"One mistake could cost you your life!"

Didn't she realize she was being unfair? Didn't she realize that I already felt like crap? I didn't need her rubbing salt on the wounds. No, I didn't think. It had been _stupid_, I had acted _stupid._ I got that. I just wanted to forget about it…

_You don't just forget about something like that, though, idiot. What if he had found out… What if he had realized you were trans? That you were cross dressing…?_

People get hurt, and people want to hurt…Ma had told me some time ago. I knew that. I knew that, so…

This sucked. I couldn't really think of a reason why I had done it, why I had let it happen. And what if it hadn't been me? What if it had been some other innocent girl, someone who'd come to the party by herself and had no one to watch out for her? What if _I_ hadn't had anyone to watch out for me? If Cloud and Rikku hadn't been there… Why had I even talked with that guy, danced with him, in the first place?

_You were upset. You were distracted and needed a pick me up before going home, so you trusted a stranger._

That didn't seem quite right, though…

_Or maybe you were just that stupid. Everybody has a bad day._

But I'm smarter than that…

_You liked the idea of someone else hitting on you, the thrill—_

No.

_Maybe you wanted to hurt yourself._

That made no sense. That made no sense! I didn't get this…

"—d me, Sora?"

Snapping myself out of my thoughts, I glanced back up at Ma, blinking. She still didn't look pleased. I squinted out of confusion. "What?"

"I said do you understand me?" And when I gave her a look that said I clearly didn't, she heaved a sigh and shook her head. Hands on her hips, chocolate curls bobbing back and forth with each movement. Then she crossed her arms, leveling her voice. Repeated herself.

"No more parties. No more staying out late. _Unless_—" She held up a finger to silence me when I opened my mouth to interrupt, and I kept quiet long enough for her to continue. "Unless I'm watching you, Grandma Gina is watching you, or some adult that I know and trust is watching you. Unless you're with friends that I know and know well."

"Ma."

"No buts. No exceptions. Unless it's Xion, Axel, Hayner, Olette—"

"Ma!"

"Any of the friends you and I have known for one plus years—"

"You're being so unfair!" I snapped, ignoring the sharp jolt it sent to my head. And if Ma seemed to notice that I was starting to feel dizzy again, than she didn't say anything about it. "What about Kairi or Naminé? What about Riku?"

"They're fine too."

"You're saying I can't go out without a baby sitter?"

"Curfew is now nine o'clock," she finished matter-of-factly, unrelenting. Blue eyes stern and never leaving my face. "I don't care who you're with or where you are, you had better be back home by nine or I'll find you and drag you back. And the same goes for you, Roxas."

She had snapped that last part at the blonde, causing his mouth to drop open and his eyes to narrow in disbelief. "Why me?"

"Because I'm the mother and I said so."

"Grams, say something!" I pleaded, looking to the elderly woman.

She just flipped another page in her book and took on this innocent expression on her face, not even looking up. "Not 'bout to tell my own daughter how to raise her kids…"

"She's freaking out way too much over this."

"Ya listen to your mother. No chaperone, no go. A second past nine, and…"

"And you get a warning," Ma finished for her, turning back to me. "And after that you're grounded for three days."

I was too angry to even speak anymore. I couldn't even look at her. Her stubbornness, her refusal to even hear me out, to even understand that I _knew_ I had slipped up—but that didn't mean she needed to put me on lock down. It wasn't even the fact that she was deciding not to let me go anywhere without adult supervision that bothered me. What bothered me was the fact that she was acting like I couldn't be trusted. Like I couldn't take care of myself. I got why she was upset, why she was scared, but for real? Did I look like a baby? Did she not think, after all the crap I'd been through, I couldn't learn to handle myself even better because of this?

After a moment, she managed to calm herself and speak to me like a human being. "You might think I'm being harsh—"

"You are," I cut her off, still refusing to look the woman in the eye. But she brushed it off and continued.

"You might _think_ I'm being harsh, but I'm doing it for your own safety. For your own good. How else will you learn your lesson?"

"Oh, I dunno, I figured being stuck in the _hospital_ for X amount of days would do the trick."

Even I was surprising myself with how snippy I was being. It felt…wrong, almost. Weird. I had to pee… At that point I was throwing my blankets off myself and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Stopped, grabbed the rolling stand that my IV was connected to in order to catch myself. Then, when the dizziness in my head died down enough, I started getting up.

Ma was hovering over me from the side, suddenly much calmer than before. "When we check you out of here, you're going to come back home with Rox and me. I won't be able to stay all day because I still have to teach classes, but your grandmother will be over to watch you."

I just nodded, focusing on heading for the small restroom across from me but failing miserably to steady myself on my feet. Crap, this was harder than I'd thought it be… "Okay, whatever."

"Sora."

The way she called my name made me stop and truly look at her, had me taking in the wounded expression on her round face with an apology writing itself on my own. I stopped halfway towards my destination and just let her wrap her arms around me, and as upset as I was I couldn't keep myself from hugging her back. It didn't seem to matter that Rox and Grams were still in the room, probably watching the two of us in discomfort.

"I was so…so scared. When they called me and told me you were in the hospital," my mother whispered, shaking her head against mine, hugging me tighter. "Please… I just don't want another scare like that."

"I know, Ma. I'm sorry…"

I was…but she needed to understand I wasn't a baby. I made a stupid mistake, but I sure as hell wasn't going to make another one like it.

_But doesn't your mother know best?_

Why did I still feel…so separated from myself? Mentally speaking…

For a short moment I slipped my eyes closed and tried to think about all the things going on lately. At school, with Riku, the trial, and Cloud and Rikku and… I couldn't really keep it up for long without getting a slight headache, so I just gave up on it for the time being and stood there with Ma.

Then, after all the silence, I muttered, "I have to pee."

She laughed at that, but it was more at how out of place the comment seemed than the actual comment itself, and she helped me to the bathroom so I could pee on my own for the umpteenth time that day.

* * *

><p>I had my heart in my throat on Saturday. (No, they didn't even release me this morning, when I was feeling loads better than before. They were going to wait until tomorrow to give me the okay to go home. That's two days of school I had to make up and half the weekend gone!) But none of that was what concerned me that morning, or what had me so anxious.<p>

The verdict was today.

Ms. Aerith and Riku had dropped by to see me yesterday evening, and the boy had just ranted about it. Or maybe it didn't technically count as a rant, since he seemed practically excited about it. Excited yet solemn at the same time, but overall he was in the best spirits I'd seen him in since the trial started.

"She really fucked up this time, Sora," he'd said cheerfully as he sat down on the end of my bed.

Grams had looked up from her conversation with Ms. Aerith (of course on the couch), and gave Riku and I a look that I couldn't help but laugh at. "Watch yer language, young man."

Riku had held in whatever amusing—no doubt rude—response he had running through his head and simply gave Grams a nod in apology instead. Then he'd turned back to me and lowered his voice to an acceptable volume. "I mean, she _really_ messed up."

"What she do?" I'd asked.

"She had a collection of sex tapes. Labeled with every name of every boy she'd ever been with, dated too. And the police got a hold of them. You should have seen her _face_ in court today; she looked ready to blow a gasket."

"Wait, so…" A pause in which I'd thrown a curious glance in Grams' and Ms. Aerith's direction. The latter had just sent me an amused smile as she continued to speak with her companion. Somehow my hand had ended up locked with Riku's. "Wait, so…was there a tape of…"

"Me?"

"Yeah…"

"No. Not that I know of, otherwise they would've brought it into court today."

Oh. Why…had that not surprised me? Of course she'd get lucky in that aspect; no incriminating evidence relating to Riku's case could be found. Yet these other tapes… And they'd been labeled, too. How many other boys? How many under aged, nonconsensual?

"They found Sephiroth's tape," Riku added, as if reading my mind. There was no wiping the grin off his face, in spite of the subject. It was almost contagious.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, without a doubt, the jury's at least going to find her guilty for his rape. The tape's enough to prove his story. She's not walking from this."

I'd been anxious ever since he told me that. Not that I doubted what he'd said. If the jury had seen that tape, if it had been a recording of whatever sick things that woman did to this Sephiroth, then they'd be smart about their decision; they'd rule her guilty for it. But that didn't necessarily prove anything for Riku's case, specifically. For _his_ assault. Would they assume, because of the other tapes, that his story was true? That, unfortunately—Or fortunately? How did you look at it?—he hadn't been recorded so he just had his word to go on? Would that be enough for them to rule her guilty for his sake as well?

And what kind of sick mind keeps a collection of videos of the _sex_ they had with a bunch of under aged boys _anyway_? Surely she couldn't have been that twisted?

I waited the entire morning and most of the afternoon watching television, chatting with Grams or Ma who came to check on me during her lunch break. I texted Kairi and Naminé on and off, even though they were both in school, just to see if they knew anything more. To no avail, though. I even contemplated calling Ms. Aerith but then remembered she was probably in the court room with Riku, so it would just be better to wait.

Then, finally, the news came to me in the form of smothering hug and several butterfly kisses to my face.

It took me by surprise because, one, I had _just_ walked out of the restroom (IV free this time) when some unknown force grabbed me; and, two, I didn't recognize who this force was until I managed to pull my face free for three seconds. Riku was beaming at me and still hugging me and still pressing these sloppy kisses all over my face, and I didn't even have to ask why and started laughing. I spotted Ms. Aerith and Grams laughing as well, standing off by the door, but that was only for a few seconds before I slipped my eyes closed and hugged Riku back. And I think he was crying and laughing at the same time as he picked me up and spun me around.

I didn't mind the slight dizziness this time.

* * *

><p>"Four days! Why the hell didn't you tell me you were in the hospital, man!"<p>

I gave Hayner a look that made him grimace and rub at the back of his neck.

"I mean… I'm not _calling_ you a man, jeez. You know what I mean."

"I know."

We were walking laps around the track that Monday. Ma—no, pretty much my entire family—had been against letting me go back to school so soon, especially since they'd checked me out of the hospital on Sunday. I'd been so sick of that tiny room and its ratty couches and the uncomfortable bed that I didn't really care if they thought I'd be fine or not. I felt decent enough. I mean, at least the rest of the world wasn't taking seconds to catch up with my movements. And my headaches and nausea had subsided. So…

Why did I still feel…kind of weird? I mean, physically I was fine. My nurse had confirmed that, the doctor had as well. They wouldn't have let me leave if they didn't think I was okay. But… I don't know, ever since Sunday I was in this mood. Not really good but not really bad. In the middle, for the most part. It went up and down during the day. I should've felt much better, especially with Riku's trial done and his spirits inflated. But…

"Yo, Sora."

"Huh?"

I blinked, looking over at my sandy haired friend. His hazel eyes were regarding me suspiciously, and this frown was curling his lips downward. "You _are_ alright, right?"

I almost said I was fine. That was a bad habit I needed to kick, though, because right then I was dipping back down into a baddish mood. Instead of telling him that, though, I simply glanced around at the rest of our classmates leisurely walking around the track and chatting as they did so. It was just the boys' class today. Coach still hadn't let me transfer to the girls' class. Something about it being too close to the end of the year to bother, that I might as well just sit it out since I wouldn't have to take gym at all next year; that had been a load of crap, but the school couldn't _make_ him transfer me if he didn't think it was necessary.

Further ahead I spotted the familiar black beanie, the toned sweaty figure. Seifer was joking around about something with his boneheaded friends. They'd toned down their teasing lately, but that was just because a majority of the school was taking care of it for them.

Hayner followed my gaze, frowned. "They still messing with you?"

"Do Olette and the others still talk to you?" I asked quietly.

He seemed put off by my sudden change in topic, rubbing his neck again. In fact, he didn't say anything right away. I still didn't take my eyes off of Seifer and his little gang. Hayner sighed. "Yeah, we still talk. Not a whole lot, but sometimes."

"Do they ever say anything about me?"

"Not really."

"At all?"

"Honestly? They think it's awkward. No one likes bringing it up except when I say something, but then they just ignore it or brush it off. Truth is I'd thought they'd have bigger balls about it, ya know?"

I'd come out to Hayner roughly a month ago, and he'd been kind enough to spread the word to the others. He'd been weirded out about it, but he came back and he stuck with me regardless. A month. Wasn't a month long enough to kind of let it sink it, to get over it? Was Hayner the only one who didn't mind if I showed up in a skirt and some heels, if I wore my hair flat or my wig in a bun or ponytail whenever I came to gym? Was he really the only one out of my friends that could get past all of that? Were they afraid of what other people would think or say about them if they were caught speaking with me? Was I really that much a thorn in their side, they had to pretend I didn't exist?

"_If you can find just two or three—even one—people that you can trust and call a close friend, then there shouldn't be a reason to have more…"_

I didn't know why, after what felt like years ago, Riku's words came to mind like that. It had just been the first thing that popped into my head, and I was suddenly starting to think I understood his reasoning.

_It doesn't hurt to have just a few…or one._

When I looked back over I found that Hayner was still watching me very carefully, worry lacing his tone. "Sora, you know I got your back, right? You know you dressing up and all that crap… That don't change you, right? You're still the same Sora."

Slowly I nodded. "Y…yeah."

"Then you don't need a reason to be sorry, 'bout anything. You got that? It's their loss, their problem."

"They're supposed to be my friends, Hay."

"They'll either get over themselves and apologize, or they'll keep parading around with their heads stuck up their asses." He folded his arms behind his head. "Don't let them bring you down when they weren't good enough to help you up in the first place."

He was trying to cheer me up, but I couldn't snap out of that mood.

* * *

><p>When I got home after school—and it was just me this time; I'd have to get used to waiting for Rox and Ma to get home later than me again—I went up to my room and just collapsed onto the bed. Some few minutes later Sadie had wandered in and cozied her way beside me, rolling around on the sheets like she'd missed me tenfold since yesterday. (The fur ball had attacked me with snuggles yesterday, too, surprised to see me back home after so long.)<p>

Absently I ran fingers along her head, closing my eyes at the gentle purr she let out. Calmed, almost. But that mood still wouldn't go away, no matter how hard I tried, and it wasn't long before I was pulling out my cell and punching a number into it.

Riku's voice sounded dryly on the other end of the line. "House of Pancakes. May I take your order?"

In spite of myself I let out an amused snort and shook my head. "You're an idiot."

He laughed. "What's up?"

I nibbled at my lip, falling silent. He must have read something in that silence, because his tone grew serious.

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Do you wanna…bake cookies or something at my place?"

And he was stunned by that question, thrown off by it for a good minute, then he let out an almost flustered chuckle. "Is that your way of hitting on me? 'Cause you're kinda just jumping right in there, and you know I'm a foreplay kind of guy."

"No, moron, I mean I want to actually bake something with you."

"You wanna bake cookies?"

"Or something. We could make a cake, or cupcakes. We don't even have to bake. I got a new cook book and they had some nice looking recipes—"

"What's this really about?"

Sadie eyeballed me as if asking me the same question. For some reason I found I couldn't give him a straight answer. I couldn't really think of one.

Why was I in this mood? Was something wrong with me?

"Sora?"

My voice was a pained whisper. "I kinda just need to see you right now."

There was no response for a long time. There was some noise, shuffling, in the background. Then, quietly, he told me, "I'll be right over."


	27. We Can Go Anywhere

**Author's Note:** I'm taking a step back with the story, it feels like. I don't know how to explain it...but anywho! Please check my profile. There's a new link up on the bottom. I've written a little something to you all on my new blog and I didn't want to crowd up this page with a long ass author's note. Something told me I had to write it now and not later, so please read it when you can; I really want you all to know just how grateful I am. Thanks a bunch~

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; Break Down All the Pressure That Surrounds You<br>**

Sora was upset, and the weird thing about it was the fact that I hadn't noticed until she called me that Monday. Maybe she still wasn't feeling completely up to speed after being released from the hospital yesterday. Maybe she was reverting back to her old self, bundling everything up inside without telling anyone again. Maybe it was something else completely? I couldn't be sure, but I was angry at myself for not picking up on it until now. How long had she been feeling down? Could I even describe her feeling as down, or was it something else?

"_I kinda just need to see you right now."_

Those words both worried and excited me. On the one hand I was up for some one on one time; whether it was spend baking, talking, or whatever. On the other hand there had to be a reason for the sudden drop in mood, and I wasn't sure if she'd be up to telling me the whole story, even if I wanted her to. It was those words that had me dropping my homework, everything, to write a quick note for Aerith telling her I'd be over at Sora's for a while. It was those words that had me throw a few things in my bag before leaving and catching the closest bus. It was those words that had me staring blankly out the window the entire ride—and staring blankly still as I walked the last few blocks there.

That weird almost foreboding feeling sat with me as I rang the doorbell, but it faded a bit when Sora opened the door and gave me a small smile. We were quiet. Then she was tangling her arms around my neck and pulling me so tightly into her that it felt like our bodies were melting into each other. Her face, her nose, was pressed into my shoulder, breathing me in. I couldn't keep from hugging her back, carefully walking her back enough to close the front door behind me, then we were just standing in the entry way holding each other in silence.

The house seemed empty save for us. The cold air sent a small chill along my skin. I waited a moment before asking, "You okay?"

She shook her head against me.

I frowned. "You want to talk about it?"

A nod this time.

"Let's sit down."

"Upstairs. My room."

So we weren't baking cookies. That was fine. We weren't baking or cooking anything, but we were walking hand in hand to her bedroom still in silence. She shooed her cat off the bed and out of the room, closed the door against the jingle of the feline's collar, then we were sitting side by side on her bed.

Instead of talking, though, she kissed me just once, rather hungrily. Then twice. Then I was kissing her back, wrapping my hand around the back of her head, running fingers through flattened strands of hair and pressing her lips closer. She tasted the same as always—always the slight hint of spearmint and cinnamon from whatever toothpaste and mouthwash she used in the morning.

She seemed the same and yet different somehow. Like… How could I put it? She was much more timid than I ever remembered her being. Right now, in this moment, she was asking me for something without saying anything at all, and I honestly wasn't sure if she really wanted it to begin with.

But we kissed for a good few minutes all the same, slipping eyes shut, locking the fingers of our free hands. We went slow; Sora didn't seem too eager to rush things anyway. She gave a whimper-like moan, let my tongue brush against hers, started tickling my fingers. Pulled back just a bit when I moved the kisses to the side of her neck—still unsure?—but her body relaxed and she sighed, tilted her head back. A shiver ran through her spine; a half whisper left her lips as I continued to kiss and nibble at the spot where her neck and shoulder met. Then she shifted so that I could lay her onto the bed.

Silky hair fanned out against the pillow, I noticed as I opened my eyes, and the almost sleepy expression on her tanned face made it look like she was sinking into the sheets. Or flying. Or falling. Fingers were lightly gripping my shoulders. I felt the rise and fall of her chest against mine as her body arched upwards. The kisses went further down still, but I kept at it slowly, still unsure if Sora truly wanted this. Her demeanor, her body, was inviting and yet there was still something very tense to her. I couldn't explain it…

But she wasn't stopping me, so I went on.

I undid the buttons on her flannel shirt, brushing it back enough to expose a ruby laced bra. With every kiss downward I paused a bit to examine her face.

A kiss to her bare neck bone— A calm expression, collected.

To the bit of skin beneath the middle strip of her bra— Still calm.

A steady lick down to the dip of her navel— Scrunched up eyes, still closed, but the calm was beginning to shake.

Her legs were upraised around my head, spreading out further the lower I got, and her face was contorting into something more strained, more frantic with each passing second. She was still when I started unzipping her jeans, so still it seemed like she wasn't breathing. She seemed to be holding it together. She seemed fine and beautiful and adorable and sexy and yet…

"Sora."

Blue eyes cracked open at my whisper. Her voice was faint. "Yes?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Because we can stop if you're not comfortable."

"I don't…I don't want you to stop."

_Then what's wrong?_ I didn't need to ask it out loud for her to understand. By now her fingers had buried themselves in my hair, were mussing up the silver strands. The way she flexed them against my scalp felt nice… She nibbled on her bottom lip before muttering, "Just kiss me. Don't touch me… Don't touch it, not down there."

So that's what it was. I'd already formed a vague idea in my head about it the moment we'd locked hands and tiptoed up to Sora's room, the moment we settled onto the bed and locked lips, but only now was she actually saying something about it. Only now was she letting me know just how much it bothered her…

"You don't want me to touch you at all?"

"Not down there. Anywhere but there."

Yet "it" was already begging for attention. And I wanted to go on and slip off her jeans, the underwear, to give loving kisses and strokes as needed to hear the way her breathing hitched or the sound of arousal in her voice. Male bodied or not, I wanted to _touch_ her all over and then some, wanted to make her feel good but—

I got why she was telling me not to. I got why she was so hesitant and out of it. And I couldn't help but think that, in a way, she was actually punishing herself for some unknown reason. That, or she was confused.

So I sat up for a moment, a moment in which all I could do was just stare down at her face as if searching, then I found myself gently pinning her wrists on either side of her head and placing my lips back to hers. It was a hungry press that had us both slipping our eyes back closed, cocking our heads this way and that and this— Just this.

Her legs were twitching, and only when I felt them bump against my waist did I realize that I was all but straddling her. She was literally breathing into me with this sound in her voice, a sound that said, "More. Now."

I was kissing her and holding her down with one hand, the other moving along her check, chest, further down and down still, and I was reaching even though she told me not to. Because it made no damn sense not to _touch_ her the way I wanted to, the way she need to be touched. When I could pleasure her the only way I knew how in spite of the physical mismatch that was her body. I didn't care. I didn't care about the mismatch so long as she'd let me touch her. You know? Does that make sense? Didn't that make sense?

So I reached down, slowly, and Sora knew I was reaching down and not doing or saying anything to stop me. She didn't tell me to stop this time, and when I pulled my head back inches to examine her face a second time her look told me that she wanted me to keep going. So I slid fabric and denim out of the way, tossed them over the side of the bed, and I started stroking.

She shivered when I made that contact, sucked her lip. Somehow that turned me on more. I couldn't' help but recall how she'd stolen and swallowed my gum the last time, and the craving for something tangerine flavor hit me for a handful of seconds. Sora's breathing grew more labored with each stroke I gave, and in spite of her earlier protests she was losing herself in that feeling.

That's when I relinquished her wrist and went down on her. A strangled gasp met the air. Her back was a slender arch before me, her hands fisting both sheets and my hair in a way that pleasantly hurt. A firm tug. And she started bucking herself into my mouth the further along we went, trying to keep as quiet about it as possible but barely succeeding. There was a bit of me that regretted this, felt guilty—_she told you NOT to go there, dude_—but then Sora let out a moan that just made my mind go blank and I focused on eliciting another sound just like it. That voice, that sound she was making...

I'd pause here and there to pull back and lick the tip down her length and back, before I took her whole in my mouth again. There was an uncomfortable bulge in my pants, one that was screaming for the same kind of attention, but I tried my best to ignore it. Not yet.

"Oooh…mm…"

Sora was shaking. My eyes flicked up to look at the expression on her face. Good _God._ That face. And I hummed in the back of my throat—_she's dripping._ The taste of her in my mouth… Fuuuuck.

I moved my mouth away again, shifted so that Sora's legs were draped over my shoulders. I sat up to my knees, watched how the brunette's head tilted back into the blue comforter, then started tracing her puckered entrance with my tongue, dipped it inside. All of this while steadily pumping her with my other hand. Hell, I just wanted to take her right then and just screw like there was no tomorrow. But I pumped and I pumped and curled my tongue in and out at a teasing pace, and Sora was holding down her volume as best she could until she got where she needed to be and released with a sharp cry. I stopped then, milking her in my palm and letting her try and catch her breath.

I lost it when the teen hooked her legs around my waist, though, and choked out: "Please…just do it."

_Babe, you don't even gotta beg._

Suddenly I was un-looping my own belt buckle, undoing my own zipper, arching back over the shorter body beneath me. Her hands were resting against my cheeks, gripping them as if their owner was trying to keep her balance as she curved her body up enough for me to enter. Then her hot breath was dusting the side of my face as I started thrusting inside with a groan. "Sora."

A messy kiss was my response. I'd take that.

Our movements morphed from something somewhat controlled and steady to something feverish and raw, something so intense Sora had to bite at my shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly. Her arms hooked around my neck at some point, moaned something into my ear. I think I whispered back. I couldn't think straight at that moment because—_shiiit_, I needed her to whisper my name like that again. And I was sitting up, pulling her up into my lap with me, and her arms were still wrapped around me; her mouth was working its way back to my neck, giving hot kisses over and over again every time I drove in, and she rocked her hips against me.

Maybe I should've kept into account that the door was not locked, that someone could very possibly hear us—or even walk in—during our lust filled dance. Maybe I should've been more respectful of Sora's…lower parts. The "it" she hated so much, that she didn't want me to touch in the first place. Perhaps I should have skipped out on the sex and made her tell me what was wrong in the first place instead of taking it to this point—

"Ah…shiiit, _Riku_, shit I'm…"

Maybe I needed to stop thinking.

I let my head hang on her shoulder, let hair dangle in front of my face in a silvery curtain as we rocked at a quicker pace. Whispered, "That feels good?"

"Ye…ye… Ah!"

I was hitting that spot, which made all hope for getting words out lost and the only sound coming out of her mouth that of extreme pleasure. And fuck. Fuck, she was still riding me and _fuck_. Had to drag it out… She was so tight, so clenched up around me—

I couldn't keep it in anymore. There were the expected shudders and labored grunts and groans as we reached (for Sora, yet another) climax. Then it was done and we parted our bodies just long enough to collapse back against the pillows before tucking ourselves closely into each other. Together we caught our breaths, pressing our faces close.

I looked into those jewel toned eyes after a couple of minutes. "Feel better?"

"Hell yeah," she breathed, almost amused.

I couldn't help but laugh, just for a moment, before falling silent again. A sigh tore itself from my mouth as I pulled Sora's head closer against my chest and pressed lips to her forehead. She closed her eyes against the kiss, breathing back. Then I murmured, "You need to talk to me."

She moved her head in what I assumed was supposed to be a nod and made a sound in the back of her throat. "I know."

"You wanna stay like this?"

"Just for a few minutes."

So we lay there.

* * *

><p>"So it's like this. I've just got a lot of things on my mind right now, you know? I just need you to listen."<p>

"Yeah."

"Like, this whole party business and the drugs and being in the hospital… It's over now, but I'm just… I'm just so angry at myself for putting myself in that situation. Five days later and I'm still thinking about how much of a stupid move that was. I'm smarter than that, Riku, I know I am. I really don't get it. And then there's Rikku and Cloud."

"Who?"

"Rikku. The girl from my support group. The one with the braids. And her boyfriend Cloud."

"What about him?"

"He likes me."

I froze at that, eyeing Sora questioningly. We were currently straightening ourselves and wiping off and putting whatever abandoned articles of clothing lying forgotten on the floor back on. Never mind the mess we'd made in the bed or Sora's obvious sex hair—I was sure I had the same, to a lesser degree—that she didn't seem intent on straightening any time soon. She was slowly buttoning up her shirt, not quite looking back at me from her spot on the opposite end of the bed.

I zipped my jeans, still staring. "What do you mean he likes you, Sora? Like a friend, or…"

She gave a deep breath, her tone a little strained. "Not like as a friend, Riku. He has a full blown crush on me. He tried asking me out at one point…"

The hell he fucking did. "And you're telling me this _now_?"

"It's not like I didn't set him straight from the beginning," she admitted, finally meeting my eye. "I told him I wasn't interested, and he backed off."

"But how come I'm just now hearing about it?"

"Just _listen_."

I didn't like how she was blowing it off like it wasn't something to be concerned about, but the way she snapped had me shutting up. This Cloud… Hadn't he been the one to keep that creeper from the party off of Sora in the first place? Wasn't he just one of her friends, someone she could depend on? Someone _I _could depend on to take care of her when I couldn't be there? And she'd mentioned that he had a girlfriend. That meant something, right? He wasn't the type to go around pressing Sora when her answer was clearly no, was he?

I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted to ask her how long ago had he asked her out, how long ago had he even confessed to her—hell, how long had they known each other? Yet this was the guy that essentially helped save her life. Funny. Even knowing all of this, I hadn't really thought or known much about him until now. I hadn't even seen his face. I knew nothing other than what Sora was telling me now.

I didn't like it, but I kept quiet and let her continue.

She was pacing now, running fingers through her hair in an absent fashion, holding back whatever aggravated and anxious breath she had sitting in her chest as she pressed her lips together and thought. I sat at the foot of the bed, worriedly watching her. Then she looked at me and kept speaking, throwing her words out in a rush without once stopping.

"I said mean things to him when he visited me, Riku. When he came to check and see how I was, I just started bashing him without really thinking about it, and I was a lot harsher than I meant to be. But I've just been so pissed off, you know? At him and at Rikku. They've got this _thing_ going on. Like it's _my_ fault Cloud can't completely let go of his feelings for me. Like it's _my _fault he has those feelings in the first place. Like it's _my _fault that Rikku has to worry about that when she was the one who asked him out in the first place. Knowing—_completely knowing,_ Riku—that he liked us both. You know what he said to her? That he needed time to come to love her more than he loved me. Who _says_ that?

"And I haven't talked to them since then and I want to, but I don't know what to say or how to say it. I wanna apologize but at the same time they need to get it together. Is that so wrong? Am I wrong for being upset, or am I overreacting? Don't answer that. I'm not done.

"Then there's school. Freakin' school. The people at school. I'm so happy I came out Riku, I really am. I've been able to dress the way I want to, act the way I want to, be who I am; and I've made so many new friends because of it. A club was even founded in my honor. That's amazing, Riku, it really is. But I've just been so frustrated at school because there are too many people being mean for the sake of being mean. Hate mail. Crude pictures on my locker. Demeaning nicknames. Tampons. _The shove tampons in my locker._ Every other day, something. Even pads and panty liners. And people just laugh.

"I feel like screaming. I feel like hurting people. I feel like hiding somewhere. I feel like reverting back to a time when I was off everyone's radar and I was just Sora, not 'Princess' or 'Sugar Nuts.' And I thought I was strong enough to handle it—I'm not saying I'm backing down or anything, Riku, 'cause I've come too far for that. But I don't know how much more my nerves can handle. I know it's gonna get better, but I'm still getting sick of it. And the worst part about it is the fact that out of my five closest friends—five friends that I've known since six grade, Riku, for five years—only one of them has my back. Only one. One fucking friend, Riku. Does that make any sense? How does that make any sense? No, don't speak— _Stop!_ Don't you answer. I'm not done.

"I'm _moody_ and I hate it. I'll go from fine to sad to angry in a matter of minutes, all day, and I absolutely hate it. It's like I'm PMSing—ironic, isn't it? Fucking ironic. I keep thinking everything will be a lot easier once I start my hormones, once I get my surgery, but I have to wait for that. Why should I have to wait for all of that, Riku? Even with my counseling. Don't get me wrong; Dr. Whitfield is amazing, and she gets me. She's sweet and she's smart, and she reminds me so much of you sometimes. But I don't like that I have to go to X amount of therapy sessions just to get a letter from her saying I'm mentally healthy and okay to take hormones. I shouldn't have to _prove_ who I am to the whole world just because they think I might be 'confused.' I know there are steps, Riku, but still. I've been waiting for sixteen years.

"I've been holding ALL of this in and for what? So I can blow up in your face? Use you for random sex? Now I feel bad about that too. God damn it, Riku… And the sex. My God. I love you. I love when you touch me, Riku. I love when you hold me. I love what you _do_ to me. But no matter how you dice it I've got a guy's body and we can only do what two guys can do, not what a guy and a girl can do. And I just… It feels good in that moment, it really does, but I don't like when you touch me down there… 'Cause it just reminds me that I'm not where I want to be yet. It reminds me that I'm still trapped in this damned body, and no amount of dressing up's going to fix that when I'm with you. I just get so disgusted with myself, and I don't ever want to _feel_ that way when I'm with you because you make me feel so… Like I'm on top of the world. I know you don't care about what's outside; you see past that. But I can't get past it, Riku. I just can't. I just hate it, Riku. God _damn_ it, Riku! Just damn it…"

Whoa. Whoa, whoa…

Wow.

I couldn't think of anything more than that at the moment. Sora was so…uncharacteristically pissed. No, it was more than that. So much more than what I could accurately put into words, but the rage she'd been building up and holding in all this time was finally coming out. It was like her emotional tea pot was shrieking and sputtering, and only now was the water boiling over in the most violent way. I'll tell you what, she was so animated as she spoke that I was actually afraid to move. I wanted her to open up with me, always, but good lord.

The entire time she walked circle after circle in front of me, throwing her arms up in the air or pounding a fist against her palm. She'd point at me or give a sharp wave of her hand whenever I tried to butt in and cut me off before I could even get the words out, and I'd promptly shut my trap as she continued. Now, however, she seemed at a loss of words. She'd said everything she could, and now she was just taking deep breaths to calm herself, and she stood still.

I blinked at her a moment, reaching out for both her hands and gently pulling her closer. "You done?"

A huff. Her eyes were narrowed, tired, but she gave an energetic nod. "I'm done…"

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Because you need to take a chill pill."

She didn't look amused—but I wasn't trying to be funny. I gripped her hands tightly and pulled her until she gave in and settled herself in my lap. She curled against me, head lying on my shoulder and hands folded in her lap in a child-like way. I wrapped an arm around her and said, "So this Cloud likes you. So your friend has issues with him. That's their problem, not yours."

"But they're my friends."

"Friends don't make you feel guilty for something you can't control." And she looked like she was about to say something else in response to that, but I didn't give her the chance. "From what you said it seems like they had everything spelled out from the very beginning. They knew what they were dealing with, so you shouldn't have to worry about them. They were adult enough to get in a relationship so they should be adult enough to handle the shit that comes with it."

She didn't say anything to that. I just went on.

"And those asshats at your school… Talk to someone. Don't bottle it up. Whatever group of friends you've got together now, you stick with them and you hang in there. It's like you said; it'll get better. You just gotta make it through the shit storm without cracking—and I know you of all people can do that. Just talk to someone, please, about everything that's on your mind. Every day. Get some more friends who're gonna back you up. Don't let them walk over you. Baby steps from here to HRT and on. You'll get there."

"I know. I just don't like waiting."

"The wait's worth it, though, right?"

She thought about it a moment, picked at the fabric of her shirt with a pout on her glossy lips. Then a sigh slipped from her mouth. "Yeah."

"So."

"So…"

"You still wanna bake those cookies?"

And she stared at me like I'd suddenly sprouted an extra head before bursting out in a fit of teary eyed laughter, then she was throwing her arms around me and pulling my face towards hers to plant a big ol' kiss on my lips. Whatever tension, whatever frustration or depression or what have you from before had completely melted away at this point and she was cracking a smile. "Hell yeah. The biggest damn batch we can."


	28. Just Fine

**Sora; See I Wouldn't Change My Life, My Life's…**

There was no way to explain the almost euphoric feeling that washed over me in the next few moments. I vaguely wondered, as Riku and I trailed down the stairs hand in hand and into the kitchen, if it had anything to do with the random bout of sex I'd all but forced the boy into. (Which hadn't been all that bad, when I really thought about it...) For some reason our voices were hushed as we set to work in the kitchen, pulling out baking pans, aluminum foil, bowls, spoons, measuring cups, the works. We chattered steadily about a handful of things, random things, anything other than what had went on behind closed doors just minutes ago. Anything other than my rant. I ended up wandering into Ma's office at one point to retrieve the cook book Dr. Whitfield had given me. Then it was nothing but mild concentration on what we were doing and flirtation over a carton of eggs, milk, and pastel-colored muffin cups.

"I thought we were baking cookies," Riku pointed out as he cracked a couple eggs into the mixing bowl.

"Yeah, but then I saw this other recipe. Everyone does cookies; muffins are better." I tapped the page I'd turned to by chance towards the teen, to which he just gave a resigned shake of the head.

There was a slight smirk in his voice. "Muffins are nothing but ugly cupcakes."

"On behalf of muffins everywhere, I find that highly offensive."

And so the random baking ensued.

I found myself letting go of all the thoughts that had troubled me earlier today, not really forgetting them just…pushing them aside. Just letting them go for the moment. Everything I had mentioned to Riku before wouldn't leave the back of my mind—not the incident at the party, which I still couldn't quite forgive myself for; not the strain in my relationship with Rikku, or her issues with Cloud; not the stupid kids at school who, regardless of how upset they made me, were nothing more than just stupid; not my lack of communication with what I assumed had been my closest group of friends; not my ever present issues with my body, in spite of the advances I was making. None of it would magically get better or go away just like that.

But I let that go.

I let go and relished how nimble Riku's fingers were when he worked with a whisk, how lighthearted he seemed to be when he dipped his pinky into the finished batter and flicked it against my cheek. Playfully, I dipped my own pinky into the mix and pressed a sticky dot onto the tip of his nose, or tried to. Somehow the boy had managed to catch my finger in his mouth, sucked at it, and—oh _God_, it was deliciously distracting.

Milky green eyes wrinkled in amusement, and I felt him smiling against my finger. I yanked it away with a mock-disgusted purse of the lips before roughly poking his cheek. "Focus," I ordered, telling him to start separating the batter into the muffin cups while I checked the oven and got some oven mitts. And for God's sake, would he stop eating the batter? It was _unsanitary._ To which he just blew a raspberry in my face and helped himself to another spoonful of muffin mix. (Maybe salmonella would teach him.)

We continued to fudge around, even after two muffin pans had been set in the oven and the rest of the dishes cleared away. It wasn't long before the faintest scent of blueberry and sugar drifted into the air. And instead of hanging around in another part of the house while the ugly cupcakes baked themselves, we settled against the counter—and by settle against, I mean Riku was behind me with his arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders and his mouth pressed closely beside my ear—and started up a whole new conversation concerning Riku this time.

How was he coping since the verdict? Any regrets, any worries?

None.

What was it like having Aerith for a mom? Wasn't it some kind of weird?

Well no; she pretty much let him do his own thing, but she could get strict when she needed to be. He tended not to take that much pink fury too seriously.

What about your mothe—

Don't wanna talk about her.

How was life? I focused so much on me, but not so much on him. Was there anything else going on he wanted to talk about? Anything I should know about? How was he feeling?

Just fine.

He kissed me some more. I kissed back. In fact, we kissed so much that we actually ignored the timer on the microwave going off. Then a purposefully loud voice, Roxas' voice, cut into the air a few moments later, snapping us out of our thoughts and causing us to unlatch ourselves from each other.

"Your buns are fucking burning, lovebirds."

How we missed the smell of smoke, I had no idea, but when I looked back and saw the blonde yank open the oven and scrunch up his nose in disgust at the brownish black lumps of what was once fluffy dough, I couldn't help but start laughing uncontrollably without a single idea about what was so funny in the first place. Blue eyes were trained on me curiously; Riku was shooting me the same look as he reached in for the muffins with a dish towel; and it wasn't until both trays of our pitiful muffins, still stinking up the room, were set on the stovetop that the boys grew amused and started laughing as well.

We kept laughing even as I started to pry the burnt pastries out of their pans with a fork and piled them one after another into the trashcan Riku had pulled up beside me. Honestly, it was an awkward, highly entertained sight to behold. We didn't even bother with a second batch, as Roxas so kindly suggest. ("You'll only burn the house down.")

Instead we cleaned things up, set our crap aside, and went out and got ice cream.

* * *

><p>Hayner decided to pay the house a visit on Thursday after school, even though I had walked partway home with him not that long ago. Maybe a little less than an hour we'd parted ways, so I was a little confused to see his figure outside the front window rapping his fists against the door with this strange grin on his face. Only when I cracked the door open and eyed the boy up and down did his sudden appearance become a bit clearer.<p>

His skateboard was tucked underneath one arm, a beat up old thing with lime colored wheels and a faded camouflage design that seemed a couple shades lighter than his clothing. His other arm was reaching out towards me in a weird salute. "You still got your 'blades, right?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him, pulling the door more and allowing him room to step inside. "Why?"

It was the way I'd dragged out the "why" in suspicion that had him chuckling and patting his hand to his skateboard. "Just go get 'em and c'mon."

Oh, this would be good.

I had homework I should have been working on—but didn't feel inclined to—and clothes I needed to wash and sort out. Plus I really shouldn't have been going out at all, considering the chaperone rule Ma was trying her damndest to enforce. Technically…she only meant when it was getting late. A couple hours out with one of my friends wouldn't hurt anyone. So I left Hayner waiting downstairs, darted into my room and rummaged through my closest to find my old pair of roller skates. Pulled my already straight hair into a short, high ponytail. Left a note on the living room coffee table for Rox and Ma when they got home.

Then Hay and I were making our merry way down the neighborhood road, not really caring where it took us. Eventually the sandy haired teen ended up leading the way, skateboard zigzagging this way and that along the pavement, heading into what looked like park area complete with miniature ramps and railings.

It was some place I'm sure he and Rox used to go to all the time when they had been much closer, a place I'd only seen a handful of times but still remembered fairly well. Not that many other people hanging around. Playground equipment for much younger children to the far right. The line of trees and brush stretching along the side of the street Hayner and I had come by. Some benches, water fountains, a worn dirt path winding through what little grass there was. There was a series of steps and slopes further along too, but I skid to a stop before we could get too close—

Pence and Tidus were hanging around one of the steps, laughing, joking with each other. Waiting for something. Tidus had his own vibrant blue and yellow skateboard pressed underneath his foot, and Pence was sitting down fiddling with the laces on his skates. But then they looked up, seemed to quiet down a bit when they caught sight of Hayner and me yards away, gave faint smiles. Tidus even raised a hand in greeting, but I didn't move or say anything.

Hayner, who had rolled on by a few feet before realizing that I wasn't moving an inch, hopped off his board and took slow steps back towards me. The grin on his face, from before, had dulled down into something…maybe apologetic. Maybe not. I gave him a long, hard stare.

"Don't get mad at me, Sora."

"You didn't tell me," I whispered, still not quite looking at the now anxious Tidus and Pence. I found myself struggling to keep myself up straight in my skates, clenching my hands into small fists.

Hayner shrugged, scratched at the back of his head. "I figured, if you weren't gonna talk to them and they weren't gonna talk to you—"

"It's gonna be awkward."

"Then let it be awkward."

When I didn't say anything, he gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, Sora, I told 'em you'd be coming. They didn't pussy out at the last minute, so that's gotta count for something."

He'd dragged me out here—not quite literally, but he might as well have—knowing all along what was going to happen, without checking with me first, and I found I wasn't sure how I felt about this at all. Part of me was glad that he'd gone through the trouble to set this up, that Tidus and Pence even showed up, but…

"Well don't just stand there. C'mon," Hayner ordered, jerking his head in the boys' direction, then he plopped his board back on the ground and glided over to them.

Reluctantly I followed.

No one said anything at first. It was stiff nods of acknowledgement, small sounds in the back of our throats as we fidgeted and stared here and there. Even though I was amongst people I knew, even though I'd been long past the point of self-consciousness, I suddenly felt very naked in my shorts, pink T-shirt and ponytail. I felt the urge to yank the scrunchie out when Pence's eyes settled briefly on my hair. But the urge passed when the brunette quietly said, "Sooo… I guess we have to call you little sis now?"

The randomness with which he said it, the shyness in his voice, had me letting out a laugh before I could catch myself. In that instant the ice had been broken, an air of familiarity settled over us, and the others were laughing and grinning right along with me like nothing had really changed. Before long we were out and about, skating around, talking like we would have any other day. And then some.

I could tell that they still found it strange, Pence most of all for some reason I still couldn't pinpoint. They skirted around the subject whenever Hayner tried to bring it up, tried to play it off like it didn't bother them anymore. It wasn't until I brought it up myself that they stopped to think about it:

"What about it makes me any less than I am?"

And to be honest, they didn't have an answer to that. But they thought about it.

Logic and rationality told me that I should have been done with the both of them and kicked them to the curb as they had with me. Reason dictated that they had no right to be forgiven—because, really, it was shameful to turn your back on a friend like that, for so long. Some voice in the back of my head was telling me that I didn't need to waste my time with them, that Hayner was more than enough friend to make up for them both.

But after a whole month of silence finally broken, I embraced the time I spent with my friends wholeheartedly, willing to start over the right way.

* * *

><p>"I'm thinking I've come a long way."<p>

"That you have, Sora."

"And I've been thinking maybe, with summer break coming up, now's a perfect time to start my hormone treatment."

Tuesday, June 5th, my fifth session with Dr. Whitfield. Earlier on in the meeting there had been talk about bumping our meetings up to once a week instead of every two weeks, mainly because she had more time freed up and I'd be getting out of school for the summer soon. (Ten days and counting.)

The woman leaned back in her desk chair, scratching absently at her cropped hair. Then, calmly, she replied, "Well, after only five meetings, I'd say that's a bit too early to say, hon. Plus there are other people you need to talk to, meet with. We need find you a proper gynecologist. You need to have checkups done, schedule appointments before I can actually approve anything. And of course your doctor has to agree. _Then_ we give the referral to the endocrinologist…"

"But how long is that going to take?"

Her amber eyes were watching me carefully, though that lazy grin was still on her face. "You don't want to rush things, Sora."

"I know. I'm just—"

"No one's born knowing how to run. First they crawl, then they twaddle, eventually walk. Then they learn how to run. It's a process years in the making."

"I know."

"So quick trying to sprint when you're still crawling."

I frowned at that, completely understanding what she was telling me but not satisfied by it all the same. She couldn't help but laugh at the pout on my face, and I found myself hopping up from her couch to slowly pace around the room in response. I placed a hand on one of the books on her shelf as I replied, "I'd say I'm walking now."

Her tone was playful. "Then slow it down to a stroll. The goal's not going anywhere. Your time's coming; you just need to be patient."

Which had been very close to what Riku had told me just last week, which had me nodding my head in agreement even though the slight frown was still on my lips. I knew it was going to be a long process, but that wasn't stopping me from feeling impatient. That didn't keep me from wondering why I still had to wait when I was already so close—

But it's a process, and the best results came from going along with it as smoothly as possible.

"_The wait's worth it, though, right?"_

I smiled fondly at the sound Riku's voice ringing faintly in my head, at the memory of last week's discussion and the innocent muffins that had been insulted and burned alive shortly after. My fingertips dance along the smoothed spine of one of Dr. Whitfield's books, some _Purity in Death_ novel by a J.D. Robb. There were several other J.D. Robb books on her shelf, now that I looked. I picked up the one under my fingers, flipped through its pages without really reading the words. Mumbled something that Dr. Whitfield didn't quite hear.

"Pardon?"

"The wait's worth it," I said again more for my benefit than for hers. I turned back to face the woman. "So my boyfriend says."

"How is he?"

"He's amazing."

She took note of the warm smile on my face with one of her own, folding her hands together. "Well you hold on to Mr. Amazing and keep listening to what he says."

Like I needed anyone to tell me that.

* * *

><p>Time passed. Everything began to change, quite gradually and yet so quickly at the same time.<p>

Things weren't completely patched up with Pence, Tidus, Olette, and Selphie. They still didn't quite understand, in the way that Hayner didn't quite understand. The difference between him and them was that he wasn't put off, mildly or otherwise, by it. And we still didn't speak as much as I would have liked, but at least we were speaking at all. I'd get the occasional text or invitation to some get together. Greetings in the hallway. Some form of conversation during lunch. I could tell they weren't quite sure how to settle back into the flow of things—and we all knew it would never be the same. There was no fixing that. But it was better.

School let out for the summer break. Tears were shed amongst friends, farewells were given, yearbooks and colorful sharpie pens were exchanged. Short shorts were worn, flip flops flapped against the tiled floors for the last time, jackets were shed to reveal tank tops and spray tans. During the last week of school the general mood of the student population had shifted to something restless, something excited, and it wasn't hard to tell why. My teasing had even grinded to a complete halt, and for once since I'd come out students were letting me live my life.

I started working again at Sonata. Ms. Aerith had missed the hell out of me, had wrapped me in one of the tightest hugs I'd ever experienced the moment I walked into the tea shop that Friday. Lovingly she'd commented on my hair, my clothes, had said she'd been waiting so long that she thought I'd forgotten her. And of course I still had a job for the summer; cookies weren't going to bake themselves. She was all warmth and smiles that was hard not to lose yourself in.

My time with Riku was shorter than I would have liked. I had work and he had work, but we found the time and we continued to do our thing. If not in person, then he'd send me a text, an email. Somewhere along the line he got in the habit of sending me a daily picture from his phone, often some nature scene he'd happened upon in the morning. That, coupled with some quote. Authors, poets, actors, characters in stories. Sometimes random people he knew or had heard. I'd gotten into the habit of uploading those pictures onto my computer and making a digital scrapbook to be added to everyday, a journal of sorts. For my and his eyes only, of course.

And Rikku…

She and Cloud broke up. I'd expected as much, but it wasn't the heart-breaking, sticky kind of ordeal that I'd imagined it would be. In fact, after so much time spent worrying, Rikku actually looked freer than I'd ever seen her in ages when she invited me out to lunch one evening.

"We're still friends," the blonde had told me, picking at her tangerine colored scarf. "Just a bit distant. But it's like a breath of fresh air, Chilli."

"You look happy."

"Damn straight."

We laughed. She joked. We _talked_ like we hadn't in ages, about all sorts of things, everything. Caught up. And you know it felt good, knowing I had her back. It felt right to see the Rikku I'd come to know and love again. So she and Cloud hadn't worked out. She'd find someone. Someone who'd give her that two hundred percent. It wouldn't be hard for a girl like her.

And Cloud, as far in the background as he was, was still perfectly decent and friendly to me. He too didn't talk to me as much as before, but that didn't necessarily pose as a problem for me.

My sessions with Dr. Whitfield were scheduled accordingly for every Tuesday afternoon, which Ms. Aerith was gracious enough to give me leave for. (That woman. Enough said. There should've been monuments built in her name and image.) My therapy went so smoothly, so well, that I was actually given a referral to an endocrinologist by the end of August.

I got to start my hormones, just three days before school was to start up again. Some pills, and my first injection of estrogen. It wasn't the magical moment of truth I'd imagined on the car ride to the doctor's office, but it was still a milestone in my book, and I'd felt buzzed for the rest of the day. So buzzed in fact that Ma had to call into the doctor's to make sure it wasn't some side-effect.

"It's just excitement," the woman had told her amusedly. "She'll calm down by tomorrow."

I was still pretty stoked on Friday. On Saturday I gushed all about my first HRT appointment at my support group meet, which earned several encouraging claps and nostalgic stories of the past. ("Baby girl," Aimee, a plump and ebony skinned woman, had said to me that night. "I remember when I started hormones. Scariest day of my life. Three years ago. You're lucky you're starting so young, it's easier that way…") By Sunday I was up all night talking a highly amused Riku's ear off, about the meeting, about the hormones, about our first days of school on Monday.

("We're seniors. Can you believe that?")

September 3, Monday, school started. I wore a dress, wore curls in my wig, strutted down that hallway with my handbag and books in hand. There were no tampons, no pads, no panty liners flooding my locker when I opened it. There was no gym period in my schedule this year. My classes, for the most part, weren't anything to be excited about but they were far from being bad, and most of the teachers were nice.

Some students from last year had somehow convinced the school that _Speak!_ needed its own meeting days, Wednesdays, and its own meeting place, after school in the library, and its own sponsor, a Mrs. Kirby who's nephew happened to be a trans-boy in transition as well. I wasn't shocked to find out that I had been listed as the club's president. I was even less shocked to find out that it had been Megara's doing.

And friends. During the first three weeks of school, I'd formed a new circle of friends, mostly kids from _Speak!_ Others were people I recognized from last year. At lunch Hayner would often squeeze his way next to me when he didn't sit with Olette and the others. For the most part, though, I had a whole new table with Meg, her friend Ariel, and a transfer student named Belle that could manage to throw in a handful of English phrases when she wasn't speaking French. They knew about me. They knew, but they didn't care, saw me as one of the girls. It seemed like, over the break, everyone was now seeing me as one of the girls and not "Princess." The teasing had stopped.

I even had Seifer in one of my classes, right beside me no less. But he seemed like a different person, no longer surrounded by his little posse, no longer purposefully intimidating for the sake of being intimidating. There was something subdued about him now, more focused, but I couldn't begin to imagine a reason why. Maybe it was the responsibility of senior year that did it. Maybe he was just a changed person. Whatever the case, he'd merely given me a nod of acknowledgment when I walked into class the first day, and he hadn't said a word to me since.

Everything had changed very drastically.

'Round the middle of October my chest started to hurt periodically, on and off, then more frequently. My nipples would get sore. But I could see little buds developing, just slightly, much sooner than I'd expected. I noticed the small bumps on my chest and my leg and arm hair getting thinner, and the fat redistributing itself on my hips and my thighs and—hell—even in my face. Things rounded out. My face was just barely beginning to change. It wasn't anything drastic, but when you look in the mirror first thing every morning just to pick out what little details have changed, you start to notice even little things.

By November I was smiling more every day, eyeballing my shape-shifting figure in the mirror every morning, and just praising God almighty for making dreams come true. By then I was saving up money for Christmas presents, particularly one for Riku, and I was taking every day a step at a time. By then I was thinking vaguely of college, of moving off to some big city away from my family—not that I couldn't stand being around them, but city life seemed more alluring. I was thinking vaguely of what college Riku would go to, which one Roxas would go to, my friends. I was wondering if we'd end up split apart, but it didn't bother me too much. I focused on other things.

Time continued to pass and I was happier than I'd ever been in my entire life.


	29. You

**Author's Note:** So this is the end. Wow. I think I've already said all I could say before, but again I have to let you all know just how grateful I am to have shared this with you. You have no idea how much it means. And I need you all to be brutally honest with me about this chapter, alright, because it took me forever to write and I still don't think it's an entirely fitting end for this story. It might just be me, but then again it might not be. So get specific; tell me what seems good, what seems odd, what's lacking, what needs fixing, everything. Because, if I have to, I'll rewrite this chapter again and again until I get it just right.

Thank you all so much. Love from Miss Kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>Riku; 'Cause You Are Wonderful<strong>

Fenway Corporate Photography, an agency that dealt with photographers from all backgrounds. Wealthy ones, charismatic ones, bold ones, cold ones, visionaries and drama queens, amateurs just starting out and looking to improve. Then there were the people that managed these photographers, the appointments, the models they took pictures of (if they were the kind that dealt with models). There were the event planners, coordinators, set and outfit designers, makeup staff, technical staff, editing staff, secretaries, board heads, publishers, publicists and so on. Modeling agencies, wedding planners, advertising companies—anyone who needed pictures for fashion, print, personal reasons or otherwise—would call FCP to set up appointments, and photographers would be sent accordingly. It was an extremely nice, high tech, well organized facility.

In other words, they had their shit together.

It was a large, sleek building that looked like nothing more than an ivory marbled, heavily windowed cage from the outside. The interior told a different story—inviting and ultra modern are the only phrases I could think of that fit. The main lobby, like the other nine floors I would soon discover, was lavishly decorated in varying shades of black, white, red, and gold. Low, firm leather sofas formed boxy U shapes near the waiting area. Flat screens rested against the walls, flashing info on the latest fashion trends, celebrity news, and entertainment. Blood red carpets, thin yet comfortably soft, stretched out against the titled floor. The lights that hung from the ceiling were slightly dim, cup-like bulbs. Posters of different models hung here and there. There was an expansive, rounded front desk with a bolded **FenCo** logo on the front, manned by a well manicured and golden haired secretary in a black suit.

That desk had been my first stop when I trudged into the building on Tuesday after school, the day after Sora's and my muffin fiasco. The secretary shot champagne colored eyes in my direction when I approached and placed a business card in front of her. The card Paine had given me…what was it, last month? Just April, really? It'd felt like much longer than that. Considering the crap I had to go through with Larxene, though, it made sense that the job offer had sort of slipped my mind.

"Can I help you?" the secretary asked in a soft voice.

I chose to ignore the way her eyes seemed to scrutinize me as if I was some unwanted pest and replied, "I came to speak with Paine."

She arched a brow, drummed golden nails beside her computer, before correcting, "_Ms. Yun_ is currently in a meeting. I can leave a message."

"I'd rather talk to her in person."

Her eyes never left my face as her stiff hand crept over to the phone beside her computer screen, as she punched in a couple of numbers then lifted the receiver to her ear. She waited a beat before muttering, "Ms. Yun… Yes, I'm aware. You have a young man here to see you… No, no appointment that I know of. No… Hold on. What did you say your name was?"

The last question was aimed at me. Biting back what little annoyance I had creeping up inside of me, I tucked my hands lazily in my pocket and swept hair out of my face. "Riku Prioletti."

She relayed the name to her boss, and judging by the way her expression morphed from slight shock to an embarrassed grimace, said boss was probably (none too nicely) explaining just who I was and why I was there. Before long the blonde was nodding into the phone, muttering some apology, then hanging it up so she could glance up at me once more.

"She's ready to see you. Fifth floor, Room 2610A. The big red door. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," I said with just enough sarcastic charm in my voice to piss her off.

It didn't take me long at all to find Paine's office—in fact, hers was the only red door that could be located on the fifth floor—and when I gave a hesitant knock before cracking it open I was greeted by the sound of what sounded like…Chinese? I stared curiously around the room as I stepped in. It was a cozy thing, designed more like a personal lounge than an office. There were a couple glass bookcases with more designer knick knacks and pottery than actual books. Abstract paintings in warm colors, mostly reds and oranges, lined the side walls. The back wall was nothing but tinted windows and half-drawn blinds. The desk resting in the middle was low rising, circular, resembling something close to a dining table with red leather cushions for seats.

A miniature bar was directly to my left; beside it an entertainment system with a number of sofas positioned _just right_ in front of it. Fake plants—but hell, they looked damn real if you weren't paying close attention—had been set up here and there to give the room an earthy feel. Slim racks of clothing were on my right, recently rummaged through and forgotten. I found myself eyeing them as I shut the door behind me, and wondering who could ever manage to slip into outfits so small. It wasn't until I heard someone clear their throat that I looked up.

Two sets of garnet eyes had settled on me by then. Paine, along with some lean woman with deep silver hair forming a bob cut around her pale face. They both were settled at her rounded desk, facing me. The other woman's face was much sharper, much older, but the similarity between her and Paine was jarring. Even an idiot would be able to tell that they were related. A mother daughter relationship, if anything. They had continued to speak to one another in—yes, I was sure of it—Chinese in an almost absent minded way. Then the elder woman patted the cushion beside her before waving her hand at me. "Come sit. Riku was it?"

I blinked at how quickly she seemed to switch to English, and without the slightest hint of an accent. "Yes ma'am."

"Polite, too," she mentioned to her daughter with a cool smile.

_When I need to be._ But I said nothing and merely settled myself beside her, setting my bag on the floor. It felt…weird, the way she was watching me, sizing me up. And Paine said nothing, simply watched the two of us with a knowing, almost amused smile on her lips, a freshly poured glass of wine held in her hands. Her mother picked up a strand of my hair for a brief moment, catching me off guard, before muttering, "Beautiful hair. A shame."

She said something else to Paine, switching languages again, causing her daughter to laugh and shake her head. "I doubt he'd go for that."

"A shame," the woman repeated. Then she was sighing, getting up from her seat. She gave me a pat to the shoulder, which for some reason I didn't seem to mind all the much, before making her way out of the room.

"Bye, Mama."

"Aye."

I waited until the click of the door closing sounded behind her before arching a brow at Paine. "What was she saying about me?"

Red lips were still curved in a lazy grin, and she took a short sip of her drink before saying, "I showed her some of your pictures. She was just shocked you'd rather be a photographer than a model. 'A waste of a young face,' she said. 'He should be posing for our cameras.'"

I smiled at the compliment, obviously flattered by it even though I'd heard such things before. "I'm better handling a camera myself, if anything."

"Figured as much." Then her whole demeanor changed; her expression grew solemn. "I'm sorry."

And even though I'd been half expecting it, even though I had tried to brace myself for it, I squirmed in my seat and glanced at my feet. My smile had faded. "For what?"

"Larxene."

Of course. That woman…was still a touchy subject for me. It wasn't like I couldn't handle hearing her name; that wasn't the problem. It was just the rush of emotions, however brief, that washed over me whenever her name came up. A mixture of pain and shame and smug satisfaction all at once. Most of all, though, anger that just wouldn't die no matter how much time had passed. I doubted if it ever would.

As I took in the look on Paine's face, I found myself choking down that anger and forcing myself to remain calm. The woman pursed her lips, set her drink down on the desk. "I could have stopped her…"

"It's not your fault," was my defiant reply.

"I was there." She snapped it in a way that had me jumping back a bit, but her tone softened when she saw my reaction. "I was there, and if I had stayed that day, if I had kept her from pulling you in her room like that… Maybe not even that. If I had just stayed, had heard what all she'd done to you, you could have had a solid case."

"The tapes helped my case."

"And if Marluxia hadn't found them, hadn't turned them over?" Her eyes were probing, narrowed, and her question had me thinking back on the verdict three days ago. She had a point. "If the police hadn't gotten their hands on those tapes, no one would have known. Maybe, if you'd told me about it sometime afterward, I would have believed you. I knew what kind of person Larxene was. I knew she had problems, but I just didn't think she had it in her to…"

A lengthy pause. I studied her carefully, waiting for her to catch herself, to formulate her words. It was odd to see so much emotion, something so raw, on the face of a woman who was just a little bit more than a stranger to me. To see her feel so strongly for some kid she barely knew was…different. I wondered if she had experienced the same, or if she knew someone who had. Or if she was just passionate when it came to things like this. Eventually she found the words.

"What I'm trying to say is I had the opportunity to keep something awful from happening to you, and because I didn't take it you had to deal with all this crap. So I'm sorry."

"If you really wanted to make it up to me," I started after a moment of silence, watching her carefully, slowly smiling again, "you'd give me a job."

Whatever awkwardness there was before went away with that statement, and we were moving away from the subject completely. Fortunately; I'd be fine in the long run, but I didn't want to linger in Larxene too long if I could help it. The woman's eyes twinkled with amusement. "With what application, what resume?"

"A resume?"

"You thought I'd just hand over a job to you?"

"Uh, duh. Why else would I be here?"

She laughed at that—it was a surprisingly pleasant sound I didn't think she was capable of—shaking her head as she got up from her seat across from me. "No, you work for it like everyone else. The only advantage you'll get is me actually reading your application first instead of waiting a week to get around to it. And because I'm so nice, I'll even help you with your resume."

"Really?"

"Of course. Next Tuesday, I expect your pretty boy ass in here for a proper interview. And grab an application form from the main desk on your way out."

I rose with her, grabbing my bag off the floor and slinging it around my shoulder, slipping my hands back in my pockets. There was something unspoken between us now, like an agreement. An understanding. She looked like a tough woman with her emotions locked away, but I could make out the lingering apology in her eyes. Maybe something close to pity—no, but it wasn't. In that moment, I felt like we could be friends.

She blew out a breath and scowled, taking her drink in her fingers again, then gave my shoulder a light squeeze with her free hand. "Now get lost. I've got an actual meeting in ten minutes, and I don't want to be late."

"Paine."

"That's Ms. Yun."

"Whatever… Thanks."

There was no mistaking the slightest twitches of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Don't you mention it."

* * *

><p>Watching Sora's body change was an interesting experience.<p>

There was something almost magical about it. Before she had come out and been more open with everyone else, she always had to shed a skin to be comfortable. Leave "him" behind to become who she truly was. And while I've always love the "him" she'd left behind just as much as I loved the her, she truly made a more beautiful girl than anything else. No longer a girl now, but a young woman. But she blossomed into something even more stunning, more gorgeous, than I'd ever thought was possible.

It was like witnessing the birth of an angel.

"I feel like I'm going through a second puberty, though," she'd told me at one point. "It's kind of annoying."

"It's kind of funny. So, did your balls start shrinking yet?"

To which she gave me a rough yet good humored smack upside the head. These changes _were_ something else, though.

Sora already had a somewhat curvy figure but those curves, little by little, were becoming softer and more defined. Muscle became more lean, shoulders less broad. Arm and leg hair seemed to fade away or was removed. (Where her mother was getting money for those kinds of procedures was beyond me, but I didn't question it.) Her face was steadily getting rounder, more feminine. Her chest began to develop pitiful little bumps one would probably find on a late blooming fourteen year old girl. Mind you, Sora was wildly thrilled and fascinated by those tiny bumps all the same. ("I have _breasts_, Riku. My own real breasts. _Booobehs~_")

She also started to break out more often, leading to what I believed was a mild obsession with her skin. ("You know you're perfect with or without pimples, babe. So chill the hell out.") Her voice, much to my surprise, didn't get any higher as a result of the hormones; that didn't mean she couldn't make it so herself. She seemed much shorter—or maybe I was just having my own growth spurt. The occasional mood swing would occur when I least expected it, though it wasn't anything to seriously worry about.

Then there were other changes that didn't deal with the physical. She treated the world to more of her breath taking smiles with each passing day. More shopping sprees for either the most random or the most fashionable outfits she happened to come across. More phone calls lasting late into the night, about anything, everything. More "I love you's" that always managed to make me weak in the knees. More kisses when we were together, steaming and tender. Less anxiety, less depression, less moments where she stressed over the prominent maleness that still resided "downstairs." Less of the bad in general. She was becoming so damn happy all the time that it was sickening in the cutest of ways. And I loved it.

And I'm not saying it was all sugar and rainbows from that point on. Because like any other couple we'd have our lovers' quarrels—though they always ended in some sappy apology and a mild makeout fest. I'm not saying everything was worry-free, because at the end of the day there were still a lot of things running through my head that bothered me, loose ends in my life that still had me wondering if I could handle it and how. My camera. Balancing work and school and extracurricular activities. College—specifically, what money would be used to pay for it? Aerith was willing to make it work, but I didn't want to have to rely on her for it all. What would happen after I graduated anyway? What schools would Sora apply to, and would we have to settle into a long distance relationship at some point? Could we handle long distance? (This, I tried not to think too much about.)

I'm not saying everything was perfect, but it fucking felt like it and I wasn't about to complain.

There was just one thing.

"Pick up already…" I mumbled to myself, pushing aside cooking magazines and settling on the kitchen table.

I had Aerith's…the house phone propped against my ear and was listening to the dial tone while sucking on my bottom lip. I was home alone on that Wednesday evening in December, two days before our winter break started. We'd be off from the twenty-first all the way until the day after New Years', so I figured now would have been as good a time as any. I wanted to make one call. Just for the sake of it, just out of curiosity, just for old time's sake, just because I could and it bothered me…

I was scared.

You have no idea how scared I'm talking. I'm talking ten times what I felt whenever Larxene was around. Ten times more scared than when I heard Sora was in the hospital. A thousand, billion, times more scared than I've ever felt before. I was fucking scared and—

"Hello?"

I froze at the unfamiliar voice that answered the phone, arched a brow. "Who is this?"

The woman gave a short pause before replying, "Ya'll callin' _my number_, and askin' _me_ who I am?"

Okay. So, yeah…not my smartest move. I refrained from asking just why she was using my mother's number in the first place and quietly said, "Sorry, I just figured…Molly would pick up, is all."

"Why, you her boyfriend or somethin'?"

"No. Her son."

Her silky voice paused yet again, and I heard her make a sound in her throat like she thought I was lying. "Son?"

"Yeah."

"Shoot, her kid?"

"_Yes._"

"Well damn." I didn't know what kind of expression this woman was wearing at that moment or what was running through her head, but I figured she held the same amount of curiosity about me that I did for her. She made another short sound. "Mm… Look, kid. I ain't seen your moms in, like, couple months now. She left her shit n' everythin', just took off."

I eyeballed my bare feet without the slightest bit of emotion on my face. "Sounds like her."

"Hell… She just up and left you?"

"What do you think?" I asked harshly. She didn't seem offended by the tone, and I instantly regretted it.

"Molls' a piece o' work. Ain't changed a bit since high school. Shit, I ain't know she got no son, though. Didn' tell me jack. Just said she was trying to start over, needed a place to crash for a bit."

Somehow I figured in my mind that this woman was the Tara my mother had tried to text so many months ago. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of person she used to be when she and Mom were younger. What kind of person was she now? Had she dumped Mom as a friend back then (whenever then was) or had it been the other way around? How had they even become friends in the first place, and why had this woman thought the relationship was worth it? There were so many questions skipping around on the tip of my tongue, but I settled for just one. "Where is she now?"

I could hear her shrug. A sigh. "She mentioned somethin' 'bout getting back with some old guy of hers, making amends. Said he was willing to take her back. Some Cain, Cole…Conner, somethin' like that."

My jaw grew tight. "Caleb."

"Yeah, yeah. Ya'll know him?"

"He's my father."

"Oh. Well then."

"Well then."

We were silent for a while before I finally heaved a deep breath and said, "Sorry to bother you. Thanks."

"Well, wait now." And when I did, she added. "Ya'll called for a reason, right?"

Again I focused painfully hard on my feet, flexing my toes together. I said nothing right away. Yes, I had called for a reason. I didn't need my mother anymore; I had told myself that. I had plenty of other people who cared about me, who would help me when I needed it, and they were more of a family than she could be. That didn't mean I didn't want to talk to her, that I still didn't miss her. It had been a worry of mine since the end of November, but I hadn't said anything until it just grew and grew into this secret need that not even Sora knew about.

I didn't tell her any of this. "Just wanted to shoot her an early Merry Christmas, and maybe a Happy New Year… Nothing much."

"I can give ya'll her new number." I bristled. She seemed to sense that. "Don' have to call her if you don' wanna, but it don' hurt to have the number. Just 'cause."

"It's…fine. Thanks."

"Ya'll sure?"

"Yeah."

I hung up before she could say anything else.

* * *

><p>"Merry flipping Christmas, pretty boy."<p>

Roxas always did have a way with words. The next day found us heading for our lockers, mildly stoked for the upcoming holidays. He held out a small rectangular shaped box covered in blue and white wrapping paper, practically waving it in my face as we walked.

With a slight smirk I snatched it from him and eyed it curiously. "It's not even Christmas yet, idiot."

"Whatever. I'm gonna be out of town next week, so better now than never."

"What is it?"

I didn't trust the sly grin he gave in response as he started spinning in his combination. "Why don't you open it and find out."

It couldn't have been anything major. I mean, the box was like…smaller than a pack of sticky notes. A little heavy, but easily held in the palm of my hand. The blonde laughed at the suspicious expression on my face, stuffing textbooks he wouldn't need over the break into his locker then shutting it with a flick of the finger. Even with that weird glint in his eyes, something told me it wasn't anything to worry about. But still.

"I don't know if I should trust presents from you," I told him half jokingly after a moment.

He just gave my arm a light punch and slung his back over his shoulder. "You'll need 'em." Then he was heading to his next class.

I watched after him for just five seconds before dumping my bag down in front of me and tearing into the wrapping paper to find—batteries. A pack of four AA batteries.

That. Little. Troll.

Who the fuck gave _batteries_ away for Christmas? What the hell was he trying to pull? And he had laughed. I had half the mind to go and slug him, but he had already darted off into the growing stream of students. Blue eyed bastard. Blowing out a breath I tucked the batteries in my pocket and tossed crumpled wrapping paper on the ground, opened my locker. Then froze at what I saw resting in the middle of it.

It was a camera. A Canon SX120 to be exact. I'd researched it before years ago when I was looking to buy my first camera. Sleek, a whitish silver color, and a red bow tied carefully over its lens in a strangely intimate fashion. There was a small note card slipped underneath the ribbon, but I was too shocked to even reach out and touch the damn thing. No, it wasn't the powerhouse of a device my mother had given me last year, but… This was a new camera. There were two cutesy words scrawled on the outside of the note, two words that had me carefully reaching for the paper and unfolding it.

**Merry Christmas**

And the inside read:

**For the perfect man in all our lives. Thanks for being so fab-u-lous! You so deserve it.**

**So . Kai . Nam . Rox**

Those blue eyed bastards.

* * *

><p>Sora was all smiles over the phone that afternoon. Even wIth all the chatter drowning my ears on the bus ride home, the brunette's smile was the loudest sound. I could <em>hear<em> how hard she was grinning; it was ridiculous. I hadn't even said one word yet, but her excitement was there. "Do you like it? You did get it, right?"

"How in the _hell_," I started, fingering the sleek metal of my new camera in my free hand, "did you manage to afford this?"

"It was like one-eighty. We just split the cost between the four of us, so it's more like forty-five dollars. No big deal." But the pride in her voice told me that she _did_ think it was a big deal, that she had worked hard to come up with the money in the first place. That she had worked hard to come up with the idea in the first place. I couldn't say that I wasn't impressed.

My voice was a lot softer than I'd intended it to be. "Sora, we talked about this…"

"I know, I know. It's not the same as the one your mom gave you. But." And she just left it at that.

I ran a finger over the camera's screen. "But?"

"But."

Somehow that seemed to make perfect sense to me. Somehow it explained everything in a way I couldn't really describe. And in spite of the mixed emotions I had welling up inside of me, I laughed, wiped at the corners of my eyes. "You have no idea how much I love you right now."

"Ri, are you crying?"

"Hell yeah."

"You baby," she teased.

"You angel," I shot back, still wiping my eyes and glancing out the window. Thank the heavens people on the bus were too wrapped up in themselves or each other to notice the silent tears running down my face. I smiled through them. "I'm gonna come over right now."

"I'm about to go to work."

"Then I'm heading to Sonata."

"I'll be waiting."

And she was when I got to the tea house.

Aerith was surprised (but not really) to see me drop by, and with a new camera no less. There weren't many customers at the moment, so she allowed herself time to slip out from behind the counter and approached me. I gave her the shortest of explanations, though, before asking her to do me a specific favor. Sora came out just as the woman nodded at my request, nothing but cuteness in a yellow apron and a curious smile when she took in the expression on my face.

Before she could even say anything, before the handful of customers even realized it, I was pulling her into a long kiss. A _long_ kiss. And I didn't have to open my eyes to know that Aerith was lifting my new camera up to snap a picture of the two of us, the first picture, just as I'd asked her to. I didn't have to see her to know she was grinning herself silly. And I heard a few whoops of encouragement from the customers, some claps, but they were quickly tuned out when I slipped my eyes closed and held Sora close to me. I ignored them, because they didn't quite understand just what this moment meant to me, to us. They wouldn't.

Because people didn't always get it. But we locked hands and we held on tight and we kissed without stopping for air, without opening our eyes, because we were both feeling it and thinking the same thing: He gets it. She gets it. We have each other.

And that's all that mattered.

* * *

><p>Sora became a full-fledged woman on the summer of '13, precisely one year after her first shot of estrogen. The summer we officially graduated from high school. Her surgery had been planned for the end of that June, roughly two months before her move-in date for Glenston University, so she had plenty of time to recover and get used to her new body.<p>

I remember when I first visited her just days after the procedure one weekend. She cried so hard, and without the slightest bit of shame or regard for her brother, mother, and granny exclaimed, "My. Vag. _HURTS_."

That was the humorous start of something new.

We worked our summer jobs, hung out when we could. Packed. Before long our new schools were beckoning. I knew Sora and Rox were staying local—though Roxas would be a mere twenty minutes away from home compared to Sora's hour. I'd wanted to get away from Glenston, though, much to Aerith's surprise.

NYU. New York. I applied early and chose no other school. Part of my own money went towards tuition; Aerith provided some more. A good chunk of it, surprisingly, came from Sephiroth. He hadn't given me any warning or explanation, just mailed a check with more zero's than I'd ever seen at once to the house with a short note attached: **Be grateful.**

I guess it was his way of thanking me. Thanks to that, though I was set for my first two years of college.

And college life. An experience, I must say.

My roommate was a total hunk. Snow Villiers. He dressed like a hobo and yet always managed to look downright sexy. If I didn't have Sora and he didn't have his girl, I probably would've boned his straight ass in his sleep. (But of course not really. That's just asking for all sorts of drama.) In all seriousness, though, he was a nice guy a bit on the talkative side. We got along well. He was familiar with the streets of New York and didn't hesitate to show me around whenever we got the chance. Not saying that we went to wild parties on a regular basis or anything. But we did indulge every now and again.

My classes weren't easy, but they weren't too challenging. I even dabbled in a bit of film history and cinematography along with my photography class, just to get a feel for them. The classes were scheduled and spaced out in a way that allowed for part-time work at a restaurant near campus, a fun and home-style place that reminded me a bit of Sonata.

Sora and I would Skype every week, usually Fridays, email, call, text, send pictures. I'd had my worries, but they were needless when I realized just how easy it was to keep in touch with one another. Sure, we could get busy, and yeah, we had to wait until our breaks to go home and physically see each other—God, I'd miss her—but we made it work.

And it was weird to think how many other things in my life had worked themselves out. Maybe not a straight up fix, but enough to keep me content. I had Kairi and Naminé texting me every day about their adventures around their campus—they had requested to be roommates; big surprise there.

I had Roxas who'd call or write once in a while, just to see how things were going. How we'd managed to reconnect after all this time I'm not sure, but I didn't mind it him or his little boy toy anymore.

I had Aerith as my legal guardian, as my mother, always asking for new pictures to frame at home whenever she got the chance. I felt as if I'd never be able to tell her I loved her enough.

I kept in touch with Paine, who guaranteed that I'd have the beginnings of a career waiting for me at home when I graduated. Not without the proper application and attached resume, of course.

There was the ever stoic Sephiroth who was obviously fond of me and obviously interested in most aspects of my life. He'd just never admit it out loud. We'd chat once in a while, more often than I did with Roxas. I'd be lying if I told you I didn't see a bit of a father figure in the man.

I thought of my mom often, would call Tara once in a blue moon for some sort of behavioral report. Same old, same old. Different men. More drama. Drifting here and there. But at least, for the most part, I knew she was okay. I still didn't have and didn't want her new number.

On rare occasions Larxene would cross my mind. But she was promptly pushed out of it and never brought up again.

I'd worry, just a little, about how I'd cover my junior and senior years' tuition. I'd worry about what careers I could pursue with a photography major and whether or not I could make a stable living with it. I'd worry about where I would settle down to after I graduated—and how would Sora fit into that? Because I wanted her, always, in my life if I could help it. I'd ask her about it, ask her where she saw us ten years from now.

"Well, I expect ten babies. And a three-story house with a pool in the backyard and a two car garage. Maybe a motorcycle. And I want a big ass kitchen—"

"But seriously," I'd interrupted her.

I was sure she smiled. "If I'm with you, I really don't care."

And as sappy as that was, that was just fine with me.

* * *

><p>What makes a story? The plot? The characters? Maybe its themes, its symbols. Who knows? Does it always have to have a proper beginning, an ending? I still think, not really. It's just a series of snapshots. It's picture after picture of different moments in life. Key moments. Maybe not yours, maybe not a person you know, but <em>someone's<em> life. It's those moments that hold and give meaning to that life. It's those moments, good or bad, that shape who you are and how you see the world. It's those moments that define us—or that we define.

I do define. I am defined.

I'm a photographer. Now and always.

I'm a son, someone's.

I'm a friend.

I'm a fighter.

I'm a lover.

I'm loved.

I'm strong.

I'm smart.

I'm beautiful.

I'm whoever and whatever I want to be. I've finally found a spark, bright eyed and true, that I can honestly say I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with. I've found peace of mind. I've found comfort in the strangest of places. I've found and made meaning for myself. And most of all, I've found clarity. Somehow the world makes more sense. Somehow things just click. I think differently. The world's less scary if I tackle it head on. Sora's shown me that. She's _there_ with me, every step of the way, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I get it.


End file.
